Redemption
by Aengeal Gladefire
Summary: She knows all human males are horrible creatures and this one is no different for all his honorable airs.  A different take on the Rescue from Silvermoon quest and beyond to Arugal's downfall and the end of Drakuru's reign of terror.
1. Chapter 1

The column stretched out behind me, the men's tired faces lit by the light of the setting sun shining through the trees. Not one lifted his voice in song as we made our way back to the barracks nor was there any joking about to celebrate the coming week of rest. The only sounds were the soft plodding of the horses' hooves and the rumble of the wagons over the leaf-strewn trail. It had been a hard two weeks out on patrol. The petty skirmishes and fruitless chases from one end of the region to the other had taken a heavy toll on our spirits but at least by the Light's grace we were returning with an empty meat wagon.

I looked ahead to where our new ranking officer, Lieutenant Ravencrom, led the column. Rather closed with the mouth, that one. When Lieutenant Dumont had turned the command turned over to him he hadn't made one of those encouraging speeches and gossip about him was thin. Neither had he said much when I had requested an escort through the northern region for tomorrow.

Had I expressed the need to replenish my supplies strongly enough? Even though I have been among humans for several years, I still found them confusing at times. Joining the army as a healer to get to know them better had not been as good an idea as I had first thought. The murky layer military regulations added to the mix made me feel sometimes as if I were beating my forehead against a stone wall.

Rallying my courage I decided there was only one way to find out and urged my tired mare closer to Ravencrom's charger. "Sir, I hate to ask again," I said as I drew up to him. "But I do need to restock my supplies."

He frowned at me and then looked away. "I told you I would see what I can do, Healer Gladefire," he said, his voice a harsh rumble. "I thought night elves knew the meaning of patience."

Stung, I shut my mouth with a snap and slowed my horse to fall back in line. At least I still had a head on my shoulders.

As we pulled into Amberpine Lodge, Ravencrom motioned to sergeant Haraldsen and I waited patiently as the two men talked. Next I knew I was jerked awake as my horse moved under me. I rubbed my eyes only to find when I dropped my hands to the saddle horn that Ravencrom had dismounted and was holding my horse by its lower jaw. At first shocked at seeing him there, I wondered if he had been waiting for me to fall out of the saddle.

"You mentioned wanting to go tomorrow, healer. What time did you have in mind?" If he was as tired as I was, his voice did not betray him.

"First light, sir. The earlier we can get out and about the earlier we will be back and enjoying the remainder of the rest day." I got down off my horse and the moment my feet hit the ground I had to grip the saddle again to keep from falling. Every bone in my body ached.

"He'll be waiting for you at the main table," Ravencrom said over his shoulder as he walked away.

I murmured my thanks, wondering if I had rightfully heard a touch of amusement in his voice. Every joint in my body shrieked in pain as I carefully walked into the inn. The innkeeper's wife, Bessie, was at the kitchen door in full bellow at the scurrying help hauling buckets out the kitchen's back door.

"Lass!" she yelled across the room as soon as she saw me. "Get yerself upstairs. Yer bath a'waits!"

I smiled at the short, stout woman and would have hugged her if I didn't know it would hurt too much to do so. "The Light bless you, Bessie. You're a healer in your own right."

"Be thankin' that officer of yers, Miz Aengeal," she said, weaving her way through the crowd to my side. "He sent word ahead ta start the water boilin'. Gotta love a man that's no afraid of a bath!"

The next morning my muscles were still complaining as I went down the stairs but I did feel sure I would live through the day. A glance out the window earlier had showed the sun a half hour or so from rising so I was hopeful I would enjoy breakfast in peace before the man assigned to me showed up. Trying to savor my first meal of the day under the eyes of a disgruntled man burdened with the onerous task of shepherding me was an experience I would rather escape.

I could hear noises from the kitchen, which meant either Bessie or one of her staff was up and I would be saved from making my own breakfast. The main room was empty except for Lieutenant Ravencrom, geared in full armor with his helmet on the table beside him. From the appearance of the plate in front of him, he had just finished his own breakfast. He looked up at me as I stood at the bottom of the stairs, confused by this unexpected turn of events.

"Let Bess know you're here so we can get going," he said, looking down into his mug.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the kitchen door swung open and there was Bessie bustling in to set down a full plate and a mug of tea on the table. "We, lieutenant?" I said as I took my seat. Bessie laid her hand on my forearm, a light, quick touch, before going back into the kitchen.

"Well, you know, sometimes it works out that way." He leaned forward to inspect my plate, the sound of his armor shifting setting my teeth on edge. "Eggs and bacon? No gently boiled carrots and foliage for you, heh?"

At first I frowned at his teasing insult but then came a memory that brought a rueful smile to my lips. "My mother would say I have allowed contact with humans to lead me down dark paths, lieutenant." I dug into the food with great appetite. "I'll 'graze' among the foliage later." I held up a slice of bacon smeared with honey, watching the sweet liquid drip into the plate. "You're welcome to join me then if you'd like."

He made an odd sound and when I looked at him his face was flushed while the fingers holding his mug were white. Finally he swallowed the liquid in his mouth and set down the mug with a thump. "Thank you," he said, his voice rough, and got to his feet. "I'll make a note in my list of things to do while drunk as a dwarf. You finish up while I get the horses."

Now there was a grumpy man, indeed. Well, I'd better not to keep him waiting, I thought, rolling the rest of the eggs into the toasted bread. Herbs don't pick themselves and potions don't magically appear.

At the door to the outside Bessie met me with a small bundle, which she held out to be taken. "Here, I've packed you two a bit o' somethin' to bide you over while yer out and about."

I could only smile around the food in my mouth and nod my thanks as I took the cloth wrapped package.

"I hear yer goin' to that troll place up north. Dangerous place there, Miz Aengeal. Be watchin' yerself."

"We'll be fine, Bessie" I finally managed to say. "We know to be careful"

"Not only that, lass, but I also be speakin' of the lieutenant. That man's worth a little patience." She smiled at my puzzled frown and held the door open for me. "See you soon!"


	2. Chapter 2

Ravencrom was already mounted and holding the reins of my horse, Misty. As I packed the food in my bags his charger's questing snuffle, smelling of sweet hay, blew my hair across my cheek. I scratched the big fellow under his chin, then turned and ran my hand down my mare's soft nose before slowly climbing into the saddle. The dull ache in every muscle was warning enough for me to move with care. At my look to him once I had settled into my seat Ravencrom nodded and headed north.

There was just enough light to see our way as the sun would soon be over the horizon. The woods were quiet. No bird sang to welcome the new day and the deer were still bedded down. It was that time of sanctuary when the hunters of the night went to their rest and the hunters of the day were yet to rise. The breeze was alive with the smell of damp, fertile earth, the coy sweetness of the nightrose and the dry tang of pine bark. The scents were notes in the Song of Life and I found myself humming along with that joyous, green music.

Ravencrom set a pace that was easy on our overworked horses. He probably meant to be at the Granite Springs camp by mid morning. Good idea that, to be among the riffraff there in broad daylight so you could keep a eye on them. However, as soon as we were over the Blue Sky River bridge he slowed his charger to a walk and took off his helmet.

"Something wrong, lieutenant?" I said as I pulled up level with him.

"No," he said. "I was wondering what song that was you were singing earlier."

"No song really, just something that came to mind."

"Elfish thing, then," he said, his tone clearly dismissing the matter. "You have my curiosity by the tail, though, healer. I've met few night elves who were willing to change allegiance or even become a priest instead of a druid."

"I did not realize you were so knowledgeable about my race, lieutenant." I could hear the outrage in my own voice but couldn't bring myself to rein it in. Damn these nosy, stiff necked humans! "Do you mind me asking what experience you've had among the kaldorei?"

Ignoring my ire he nodded and urged his charger into motion again. "I was on Theramore Isle during the Battle of Hyjal; part of the division setting up camp for the refugees by order of Lady Proudmore. When she arrived there were night elves with her who lent their aid."

As he spoke I drew upon my memory of that time and stepped into it as if I held a viewing crystal in my hands. I had not been there at the battle either, but in Ashenvale, gathering my folk to safety. We had felt it when our Blessed Tree, Nordrassil, had cried out in rage against the arch demon, Archimonde, and very nearly gave its life to destroy what would have reduced our world to useless fragments. It had crashed over us, that power, knocking us insensible to the ground. That rage had then swept on into our future, making it a fearful, unknown thing. With the World Tree damaged, we kaldorei were again mortal and weak.

Feeling tears rising in answer to my grief, I pushed aside the memory before I embarrassed myself in front of the human. I looked up to find those strange eyes of his, blue crystals floating on white orbs, searching my face. "Something the matter, lieutenant?"

He had turned his horse around so that he faced me and until he moved his hand I had not realized he had touched mine. "It's remarkable how your face doesn't betray you and how unreadable your eyes are without irises," he said thoughtfully. He straightened in his saddle. "My pardon. You seemed to be reliving something very traumatic."

"I don't need your sympathy, my good sir," I managed to say around my anger. "Our immortality was sacrificed to kill the Defiler. Our sacrifice saved you all!"

"You forget I was there too," he said, his voice rumbling with raw emotion. "I saw good people I'd come to respect driven to their knees. I saw the hopelessness in their eyes. And if you know anything about human history, you do know we can appreciate the loss of something greater than ourselves."

"Lordaeron . . .", I began, a careless shrug lifting my shoulders. Too late I realized how insensitive that made me look.

"My homeland!" he said, raising his fist at me. His horse threw up its head and whinnied as it danced under him. "The kingdom of Stormwind, our heroes Uther, Lothar . . . the list is too damned long."

"So we grieve and we move on," I said. "Lieutenant, I would like to finish this chore sometime today. Did I misunderstand that you had better things to do as well?"

"Yes, dammit, I do have better things to do than escort some damn lump of ice through the woods for flowers." With that he turned his charger about and set off without a backward glance to see if I followed. I intoned a chant to my weary mare begging her forgiveness as I urged her into a run after him.

At least he had sense enough slow down before the horses were winded. The look he gave me when I drew up next to him was stern but the flush of high coloring had left his face.

"No apology, healer?"

"None, sir. Moreover, I don't expect one from you."

"You're one damn insolent grunt."

"You're one damn lenient officer, sir."

His lips twitched and his eyes narrowed but I chanced a guess the expression was suppressed amusement rather than outright anger. For several moments we locked gazes and finally he looked away, shaking his head as his mouth gaped in a smile. I let out the breath I'd been holding as quietly as possible, glad my gambit had paid off. Army life was hell enough without being on an officer's shit list and with humans, you never know which way they will jump.

The first time I had laid eyes on him it had been only because the power of the Light within him demanded I find its source. So bemused by that fire I had stood there gawking at him like a fool as Lieutenant Dumont welcomed him on the Amberpine Lodge front steps. His hair was the color of dead grass but when he shook the other man's hand it had gleamed in the sunlight as if it were new gold. As he followed Dumont into the inn, he had looked up at me and a shiver had run through my body as if I had been struck by lightning. I don't remember if I had bowed to him or not. He had smiled at me and anger had instantly frozen my tongue to the roof of my mouth. The Light save us, I remember thinking, here's yet another human male who thinks he's every female's dream.


	3. Chapter 3

The smell of the Granite Springs camp reached my nose long before we came on the clearing. Ravencrom slowed at the path's opening into the camp and I heeled Misty in closer to his charger. The stench of excrement and rotting meat nearly had me leaning over in my saddle to spew on the ground. By the way the horses were tossing their heads, no doubt worgs were prowling in the shadows under the trees, drawn to the garbage. Ravencrom waved and shouted to Mack Fearsen before going over to him.

"What do you want Ravencrom," Fearsen said as he took a swig from a bottle. He staggered as he turned and threw the emptied bottle on a nearby smoking mound of cloth wrapped troll corpses. He seemed to have forgotten us as he stood staring at the bundles bursting into flame.

"Morning, Mack," the lieutenant finally said. "Heard anything about the way west and north to Drak'Tharon?"

"Yeah, enough to know to stay out of there." Fearsen shook himself and turned and pointed at a large empty cage behind him. "Been a little messy out that way since Drakuru got out. Some damn fool must have took pity on him and that troll is probably picking his teeth with their bones now."

"Not what I wanted to hear, Mack, but thanks for the warning," Ravencrom said. "Need anything I can bring you next time I'm out?"

"Hell, I don't know," Fearsen said, reaching for another bottle. "You will excuse me now" he said, carefully enunciating each word. "It's getting late and I'm not drunk yet."

Ravencrom motioned to me to follow him out the same way we had come in. "We have to backtrack and take the road north, then take to the woods to bypass Silverbrook. If we're lucky we won't be seen by any of the trappers there."

I shook my head, puzzled by his decision. "Why are you worried about the Silverbrook people? Aren't they allies?"

"The trappers aren't the friends we were hoping for but they aren't enemies either. Word came down to give them plenty of room and maintain the present situation."

Before too long I could hear the drums of the troll village Zeb'Halak and on the wind the smell of burning wood and flesh. As we neared the settlement I heard the clash of metal against metal and voices raised in screams but before I could warn Ravencrom he had already started taking us towards the east, deeper into the forest.

Looking ahead I could see sunlight shining in a clearing but Ravencrom motioned a halt before we came out from under the cover of the trees. He pulled a spyglass from his saddle and raised it to his eye. "That's Bonesnap's camp ahead. Looks like he's entertaining a company from Conquest Hold."

I stood up in my stirrups and try as I might I could not see what he was talking about. Not for the first time I wished I had a spyglass of my own.

Ravencrom made a slight sound. "There they go," he said. "They're attacking the blighted trolls!" He turned his horse around and motioned for me to follow him back further into the trees. Leaning over in the saddle, he took me by the upper arm and taken aback, I looked up from his hand into his face, irritated by his lack of manners.

"Stay close," he said. "We have to run through their outer perimeter and get to the Drak'Tharon Keep wall. We can cut west from there."

He gave my arm a light shake but before I could brush away his hand, he released me and headed out of the trees again at a gallop. I urged my mare after him, thinking I was following a mad man. We were riding horses! How could the Horde not notice and know their enemies were among them?

We went past several small groups of fighters, all thankfully too busy to look up and I dared hope we were going to get away with the deception. Then just as the towering temple wall was in sight, Ravencrom suddenly hauled his charger around and headed straight for me. I sawed on the reins, my mare nearly floundering as she dodged the bigger animal. I choked back a curse as I wheeled Misty about to follow.

He led us along the wall until it ended in the face of a cliff and the back of one of the trappers' watch towers. I could hear more fighting on the downward slope of the hill to our right. Ravencrom had his spyglass out again, looking towards the direction the sounds were coming from.

"What happened, lieutenant?" I said. "We're going the wrong way."

"A mob of blighted trolls came out of the keep and overran the Horde," he said. "They didn't have a chance." He put the glass away and sat back in the saddle, hands on his hips. "I don't want to ask leave of the trappers here but we have no choice. At the moment the Horde are keeping them busy but I don't think they're going to welcome us with open arms."

As we headed for the watchtower Ravencrom stopped to look at the horses tethered behind it. "Those are army war horses," he said as headed towards them. "What the hell...?" He dismounted and walking up to a fine looking bay, pulled its head down for a closer look at the medallion on the bridle. "Westfall Brigade!"

"Something the matter, lieutenant?" I said, then sat back and held my tongue at his wave for silence.

He seemed preoccupied for a few moments as he stood at the horse's shoulder, then he came to my side, motioning for me to dismount. "Something is wrong here," he said softly. He pointed at the watchtower in front of us. "I want to take a quick look in there and see if any of Stoutmantle's men are here on official business." He looked again at the bay charger. "Or if the trappers have decided to become horse thieves."

"You're not telling me everything, lieutenant," I said as I moved to obey him.

He took my wrist and held it. "Later," he said and I could only stare into those blue eyes as the Light flared within him. It was as if I looked into an endless beckoning fire. When he released me I realized I had been holding my breath. I looked away, dismayed at the heat in my face.

Ravencrom took my wrist again and pulled me a step forward. I stumbled in his wake as he then turned and led the way to the watchtower. The central courtyard of the trapper camp was empty. There was gunfire and shouts coming from behind the buildings on our right. He ran up the steps to the tower and I followed on his heels, fearing a shot to the back. Once inside, we flattened ourselves against the wall on both sides of the door. Ravencrom peered back out the door to check if we had been seen.

I turned to look about the dimly lit interior of the tower and found myself meeting the same intent examination from a human male sitting in the back of a roughly made cage. At my gasp of surprise, Ravencrom turned around. The man looked from me to Ravencrom with a grim smile that soon faded.

"You're not one of them, are you," he said, his voice low. He stepped closer to the door of the cage, gripping the bars. "Did they bite you? Tell me! Did they bite you?"

I shook my head, frozen where I stood. The cage was barely tall enough to allow the prisoner to stand. His face was dirty and his hair was plastered to his skull. He looked barely old enough to shave.

Ravencrom stepped to the far side of the cage, staying in the room's shadows. "This your armor?" he said, as he bent down to inspect a dark mound on the floor.

The young man shook his head and saluted. "No, sir. Private Stelward, Fordragon Irregulars, sir. I have to report back to Captain Stoutmantle. These people are not who you think they are!"


	4. Chapter 4

"That's too far," Ravencrom said. "We'll take you to Amberpine first." He searched the top of the cage and pulling on a lever, grabbed the cage door and swung it open. He stopped at the door's opening and looked from side to side before motioning to us to follow him.

Once we were behind the watchtower Stelward ran to the bay charger and then started looking around the nearby bushes and clumps of tall grass. "Help me find his saddle," he said. "There's equipment in the bags that will help us get out of here."

Ravencrom found the saddle behind a cord of firewood and the two men went to work getting the charger ready. Stelward reached into one of the bags and held out a black orb for us to inspect. It fit within the palm of his hand but was too large for him to close his fingers over it.

"These explode on impact and the liquid inside burns," he said. He turned to me. "You'll have to ride with me," he said, carefully returning it to the straw packed bag. "Throw these at anything that follows us."

Ravencrom made to protest, but thought better of it. "He's right. He's not in full armor and neither is the horse. There should be no problem with weight." He looked back towards the camp and I wondered if the fighting was ending. It didn't sound as loud as it had earlier.

He turned back around to us. "Move out!"

I went to my mare and secured the ends of the reins to the saddle horn. Taking the animal by the jaw, I laid my cheek against its forehead. I didn't dare look into those trusting brown eyes. "Safe trip home," I whispered and turned away without a backward glance.

Stelward had already mounted the bay and reached down to pull me up behind him. As soon as I was settled, Ravencrom laid the saddlebag with the explosives across my legs. He took my hand and I looked down into his face, into those clear blue eyes.

"I won't be able to heal you," he said, his voice rough. "Either of you." Considering how time consuming a paladin's lesser heals were, I could see his point. A wry smile flickered on his face. "Just don't hit me with those incendiaries."

"I promise," I said, shivering. I tried to return the smile but I felt more like crying. My face felt numb and my hands were like ice. I had to look away from him and away from the destruction in my lap. I felt a touch on my knee and then he was striding towards his own horse.

He climbed into the saddle and sat for a moment, head bowed. He turned and gave the nod to Stelward and we were off, the bay's powerful hindquarters bunching under me. I had to tighten my grip on the back of Stelward's jerkin to keep from falling off.

We rounded the watchtower, the two chargers almost neck and neck. People were coming from behind the buildings and I saw them begin to change, their clothing falling from their bodies, their faces elongating into muzzles. I screamed, the sound coming from the depths of my soul, clawing its way out of my throat.

"Miss! Oh, miss, please!" Stelward was shouting and I realized I had buried my face in his coat. "Throw the bombs!"

I reached into the saddlebag and carefully pulling one of the orbs free from the straw, turned to look behind us. My heart recoiled in fear. There must have been hundreds of the wolf-men. They ran on all fours after us, howling and snarling.

"Throw the dammed thing," Ravencrom yelled. "You don't have to aim, just don't hit me!"

I tossed the bomb at the closest worgen and saw it go down, fouling several of its mates, all of them covered in flames. Heartened by how well the bomb worked, I reached in the saddlebag for another. The worgen were gaining on the horses despite their initial head start. Ravencrom steered his charger into the leaders, knocking them down to be trampled under the horse's hooves.

Obeying the lieutenant's orders, I threw the bomb as hard as I could to the other side of him and more worgen went down. There were too many of them! I pulled the saddlebag flap open as far as I could and did a careful count by hand through the straw. One bag had fifteen and the other had ten. Not enough! My heart froze in my chest. We were going to die.

Ravencrom had his sword out and was slashing at some of the worgen. I could tell he was soon going to be overpowered by the sheer number of them. This time I did take careful aim and threw the bomb into the middle of the pack on him. Some of the liquid fire splashed towards him but most of it landed on the wolf-man clawing its way up his weapon. Ravencrom managed to free it from the burning creature before the fire could spread to his horse's armor.

With that the rest of the worgen fell behind and milled around before heading off into the trees to the east. Ravencrom pulled up next to Stelward and motioned for him to slow down. "Save your horse, private."

"Why don't we stop and give the horses a breather?" Stelward said. "The worgen gave up!"

Ravencrom shook his head. "They've gone out to spread the word. We're not out of danger yet. There's a trapper watchtower just outside Amberpine."

"The Light save us," I whispered. I had forgotten.

"I'm sure some will follow us, looking for any chance to attack. We'll cut across Vordrassil's Ruins to the Big Sky River Bridge," Ravencrom said. "Once over the bridge, we leave the road and follow the edge of the cliffs south.

"Any of those worgen show their faces we charge. Stay close, private. If we're unhorsed, you take the healer's back." He turned to me. "Aengeal," he called and I realized it was the first time he had ever used my first name. "Save your shield spell for yourself. You go down, we're dead."

With that he led the way from the road, kicking his charger into motion. The horses' hooves were a muffled thunder over the litter of pine needles. Soon we came upon the broken Limb of Vordrassil and easily dodged the roving oozes that fed on the shattered World Tree as it returned to the earth. As we went into the shadows under the huge tree limb I shivered at the loss of the sun's warmth. Death here was the smell of the fertile earth and the sweet rot of wood dancing towards Life renewed.


	5. Chapter 5

Ravencrom set a pace to save our mounts, alternating a ground covering gait with a slower trot. I couldn't help but feel an exaltation in the strength of the horse under me as it jumped over obstacles or held its balance going head first down the rocky slopes. Tears stung as ice on my cheeks as I thought of how we moved in a moment of beauty, rushing to our deaths.

The horses' hooves drumming across the wooden bridge startled me out of my reverie and my heart sank with the knowledge the moment was at hand. Once we had cleared the bridge Ravencrom moved to my right side and pulled his sword free of its scabbard. Fear gripped me anew, making my hands shake as I reached into the saddlebag for a bomb.

Howls filled the air and there they were, jumping out from behind the trees at us. As one the chargers surged forward as Ravencrom's mount screamed a challenge. Out of the corner of my eye I saw more of the worgen rushing our flank on the left. I threw the bomb at them and while reaching for another, saw the leaders of the pack rammed by the big charger go down.

Fire lanced through my leg. The bay was screaming. A worgen had leaped at the horse and had it by the tail, clawing at my clothing to pull itself up. All I saw was a gaping maw of teeth. Just as suddenly Ravencrom was there, blood splattering my face as he swung and beheaded the monster. I tossed the bomb away from us without looking and reached for another.

Worgen now had the bay by the bridle and Stelward reached forward to cut the gear off with his belt knife. The wolf-men clawed at the poor horses; Ravencrom's horse's face was a bloody ruin, one eye torn from its socket. I saw Stelward's thigh laid open, the livid flesh, the blood running down his leg. I screamed as claws ripped across my back and I nearly let a bomb fall from my hand.

Then I heard the most beautiful sound in the world. "Horns! The horns!" I yelled as loudly as I could. "Help is on the way!" I threw the rest of the bombs as fast as I dared, hoping the noise would pinpoint our position. No doubt the worgen had heard the horns as well; several leaped at the bay and the horse went down, the rank smell of a wolf-man's fur in my face.

Stelward pulled the dead worgen off me and the moment I was on my feet, I cast a healing shield on myself and set a mending spell to Ravencrom. He tossed his sword to Stelward and pulled his shield and a mace from the holders on his mount's saddle. The charger kicked and bit at the worgen, protecting his master as he armed himself. The smell of offal surrounded us; the bay's belly had been ripped open. I stood in a pool of blood between the two men as the worgen charged again.

Without the protection of armor Stelward's life was draining away through the wound in his leg and each new cut siphoned more from him. He strained to keep his weapons up, the effort showing through the sweat running down his face. I could hear his proud heart laboring. Ravencrom tried to cover that weak side but there were too many of them. Help was just out of reach and I despaired that they would not reach us in time. I cried out at the injustice, then clenching my teeth I renewed my shield and used the last of my energy to cast a full heal on us all, praying the men would last long enough for it to complete.

So deep was my concentration time slowed as I reached for the Light's power to heal. The welcoming fire greeted me; flowed into me, setting blood and bones ablaze. I gave myself up to it, hungering for more. My soul merged with the glory and I could not tell where I began and it ended. Some part of me cried out in fear, a last desperate denial as the Light consumed me.

Sharp claws struck me; the pain pulling me from the depths of sleep. Claws – the worgen! I gasped and tried to rise only to feel a hot little hand on my shoulder holding me down.

"No, lass, be still," Bessie said. "Yer safe in yer own bed. Let me help you sit up so you don't pull the wounds open."

With her help I rolled over and sat up but would have fallen over if she hadn't been there to hold me upright. I touched my face and saw that my left hand and arm were covered in dark bruises but it didn't matter; I was again flesh and bone. One leg and its knee were covered in claw marks but only the innermost parts of the wounds were still red.

"Just how bad do I look," I croaked. My voice sounded just as damaged as my body.

Bessie smiled. "Lass, yer so many colors of blue and red we ran outta names for 'em," she said, holding a mug up for me drink. "Here, this will help with the pain."

"How is the boy? Last I remember I was losing him," I said, taking a cautious sip. I thought I had smelled caraway burnwine and sure enough she had backed the healing properties of Talandra's rose tea with a slug of the alcoholic drink.

"He and the lieutenant are well and recovering," Bessie said. "Lass, you saved them. The lieutenant said you healed everything five miles 'round and nearly took ten years off of him. Speaking of which, he wants to see you. Do you feel up to talkin' with him?"

I nodded, glad for the distraction. Something had happened during that last heal that my lessons in using the Light had not mentioned. It frightened me that it seemed too much like what I had heard about losing oneself to the corruption of magic.

Bessie went to the cabinet and pulled out one of my nightgowns. "This should be light enough for you to stand against your skin," she said holding it up. "Yer back looks a sight, lass." She settled the garment over my head then went to the door and pulling it open, motioned to someone in the hall.

Ravencrom came into the room, his shield arm in a sling. He eased himself into the chair by my bed. "Healer Gladefire," he said as he laid his hand on the edge of the mattress. He looked into my face then down at his hand, as if at a loss for words. Against the white bed linens his skin seemed darker, the fingers so blunt they made the appendage look squared. Equally a farmer's hand and a warrior's hand, capable and strong.

He cleared his throat and my eyes wove their way up to his face. "I wish you could have seen them," he said finally without looking up. His eyelashes were long and golden against his sun browned skin. "Stelward and I were standing back to back over your – your body." He frowned and closed his eyes for a moment, making the fine lines of his eyebrows bristle. "We were surrounded. Then I saw Haraldsen and the men coming through the trees like a force of nature." He smiled, looking into my face. "I could have kissed the ugly bastard."

At Bessie's laugh he blushed. "Pardon the language, ladies," he said. All I could see was the purity of those blue eyes, like the water in a moonwell.

"Well now you've seen for yerself she's fine, lieutenant," I heard Bessie say from far away. "Time to let her rest." Suddenly she was there at his side, pointing him to the door. My mind wobbled at how fast she had appeared from the other side of the room.

"What is your name, Lieutenant Ravencrom," I said, fighting the weight of my drooping eyelids and clumsy tongue. His face wavered in my blurred vision and I silently cursed my weakness.

"Neel," he said softly. "It's spelled n-i-a-l-l."

Neel, kneel, nail, I sang to myself and I smiled as sleep took me back into its healing embrace. Sharp on one end; blunt on the other. How appropriate.

Niall.


	6. Chapter 6

I looked down at the cleaned plate before me in mild amazement wondering just how many helpings had Bessie put down in front of me – had it been two or three? Yet I had eaten every bite as if I hadn't had decent food in weeks. I sighed with gusto, laughing at myself. If my body didn't soon adjust to the intensive healing I'd received, I was going to be too fat to sit on my horse. I got up from the inn's main table and headed out the door, deciding that a nap in the sun would indeed put a fine finish on the morning.

The deck outside the inn's back door was empty; the flight master must have taken the gryphons out for exercise and neither had the blacksmith returned to his forge. I noticed several chairs had been stacked together at the far end and I went to grab one and a nearby pillow. I turned the chair around so I could sit in it backwards and let the sun's warmth would soothe the scars on my back through my lightweight shirt. I gathered my hair into a loose braid, and then laying a pillow across the chair's back, I rested my head on my arms on top of it.

Someone was playing a fiddle on the other side of the Amberpine Lodge, the slow, bittersweet song blending well with the wind sweeping through the tall pines surrounding the inn. Even the eagles' cries as they soared high above were gentle notes in the melody, underscored by the sound of the water foaming around the rocks in the river below. I sighed happily, luxuriating in the sun's warmth and the satisfaction of a full belly.

There came footsteps that paused at the bottom of the steps from the inn to the deck. I opened my eyes and seeing who it was, called out to Thom Stelward. "How are you today?"

The young soldier walked over to me, a careful stride that did much to mask his limp. "Almost good as new!" he said as he eased into a chair opposite me and mimicked my pose. "Can't tell at all that one of those wolf-men nearly took off my whole leg."

I smiled at him, thinking what a pretty child he was with his green eyes and light brown hair. It was so easy sometimes to forget he was considered full-grown among humankind. "Did a letter from Rosalie come for you this morning?"

"Why, yes, Miss Aengeal," he said, returning my smile. "News from home is good. She said everyone's in good health and all." He looked out over the river, no doubt thinking of the young woman waiting for him so far away.

I remembered how brave he had been when the Silverbrook worgen had overtaken us, killing the wolf-man that had attacked me and had nearly pulled me off the back of Ravencrom's horse. How fast humans lived and died, I thought, moreover, how quickly they picked themselves up and went on with their short lives.

After a time he turned his gaze back to me. "Rose has decided to not wait until her majority for us to wed and her father has agreed." The sun in his face could not banish the darkness in his eyes. "I came too close to never seeing her again." He leaned forward and laid his hand on my arm. "Thank you again, healer."

"Am I interrupting?"

I twisted in the chair to face Lieutenant Ravencrom, hissing through clenched teeth as the sudden move pulled the wounds on my back. Thom's chair settled to the deck with a loud thump.

"Not at all, lieutenant," I said, using the few moments it took to finger-comb out my braid to recover my composure. I tossed my hair over my shoulder and pointed to the empty chairs. "Do join us. We were just enjoying the sun and the quiet."

Ravencrom pulled one of the chairs up next to me, and then sat on the forward edge of the seat, looking down at his hands clasped before him. "It's time to follow that messenger I sent to the Westfall Brigade and give a full report to Captain Stoutmantle about the worgen." He looked up at Thom. "Check with the horse master about our mounts, private. We leave tomorrow morning."

He returned Thom's salute as the younger man left and then turned to me. "It is a long trip. I hope you feel up to it."

"I'm well enough," I grudgingly admitted. The wind came up, blowing my hair into my face and I raised my hand to brush it back, only to stop at contact with his. I froze, confused. He gently settled the errant silver strands behind my ear, his fingertips brushing my cheek.

"What are you doing," I said. I looked into his blue eyes and clenched my teeth, fighting a rush of emotion that threatened to bring tears I had thought locked away. "What gives you the right to touch me?"

He slowly leaned back in his chair, throwing his arm over its back and crossing his legs. "Just enjoying the sun and the quiet," he said.

I stood and turned my chair around, wondering why he was mocking me with my own words as I settled into it. His smile at me though was gentle and there seemed to be no trace of pretense in his eyes or on his face.

"As I said earlier, I find you a very interesting person, Healer. If you don't mind me asking, did you leave your goddess's embrace or did she abandon you?"

I gasped and sprang to my feet, knocking over my chair. "How dare you," I choked out, bewildered and shocked.

"Stop, right there," he said as he held up both hands. "I am not accusing you of anything, healer, I'm just making conversation. As I said, I am very curious about you."

I took a step backwards and stumbled over my chair but he was on his feet in an instant, grabbing me by my arm to steady me.

"I apologize if I've upset you," he said softly and I could feel the Light through the palm of his hand on my bare arm. The frank admiration in his eyes took my breath away, his intent as plain as a hand on my breast. I turned my head and cursed myself for being so stupid, so blind. I softly groaned and closed my eyes, fighting the urge to run.

"Aengeal?" he said, moving closer. I could almost feel the warmth of his body. "What's wrong? Are you in pain?"

"Yes . . . no, I'm just tired," I said, covering my face with my hands. "Call Bessie for me, would you?"

He reached down and righted my chair, then guided me into it before heading for the inn's door. I sat with my face in my hands as the memories of my first affair with a human tore at me. At the sound of hurried steps on the platform I quickly wiped my face dry on my sleeve. As short as her legs were Bess had outrun him and as soon as she was near she wrapped the blanket she held around me. Ravencrom hovered at our backs plainly at a loss but unwilling to leave as she helped me to my feet.


	7. Chapter 7

"What's the matter, lass?" Bessie said as we went up the stairs to my room. "Do you need something for the pain?"

I shook my head without answering, aware of Ravencrom following us like a lost lamb. Once inside my room I went to the bed as Bessie shut the door behind us. I sat on the edge of the mattress and when the other woman started to speak, I held up my hand for silence. I waited a few moments, listening until Ravencrom's footsteps faded before turning to Bessie.

"You once told me I should have a little patience with a certain officer. Out with it, Miss Bess. When did you know?"

"Know?" Bessie repeated, staring back at me, plainly at a loss. Then she put both hands to her stomach and leaned back to let loose a deep rolling laugh. "Ah, you finally saw the light, didya lass?"

I wanted to throttle her. I hissed at the other woman and waved my hands to shush her. Bessie took a step to the bed and fell forward on to it, smothering her laughter in the bed linens. She looked up at me, merry tears in her brown eyes. "Surely you see the humor in it, don't you?"

"No! I do not want this," I said. "I do not want to be pulled into another relationship with a human. Last time was lesson enough!"

"Then out with it and tell him straight." Bessie stood and straightened her dress. "Although I do warn ya, he will put up a fight."

"Why do you say that?"

Bessie sat on the bed and put her arm around my waist. She leaned against me, her head barely coming half way up my arm. "I was there when he brought you in, bleeding and half dead. I think he would have fought The Maker for your soul if you had died."

I looked down at my own crossed arms without answering, knowing I must look the pouting child and I hated myself for it.

Dafydd ap Cathmhaoil had swept me off my feet with his dark exotic looks and easy smile. In the end he had slipped away in the night and left me to face alone all the people he owed money. I had followed his trail as far as a seedy tavern in Ironforge where the bartender had distracted me with stories about human deities called angels once he had discovered I was a healer. The scrap of paper with the crude drawing he'd made with its name spelled out in dwarven and human letters was still in the bottom of my pack.

"I dunno, lass," Bessie said. "You come to the one end of Northrend that's packed with humans and you don't expect them to think somethin' so rare as a night elf lady to be the very thing they must investigate." She gently smoothed the ends of my hair. "Ignorin' the lieutenant will not make him go away."

"There would be nothing to it if they weren't all so crazy," I sighed.

"Which part? Being human or being male?" Bessie chuckled. "As if the two don't compound each other!" She patted my arm. "Well, I'll be seein' to the supplies for your trip," she said getting to her feet. "And I probably have to go calm the horse master down because our dear lieutenant has ruffled his feathers again."

"They're fighting over the charger again?" I said. "How is it, by the way?" Ravencrom's horse had fought as bravely as any soldier against the worgen, striking down our attackers and crushing them under his hooves.

"As well as can be expected for a one-eyed horse," Bessie said. "The master's not keen on feedin' a worthless animal and thinks he should be put down. The lieutenant has offered to buy him but you know how well the army pays."

I remembered how Thom's bay charger had died in that same attack. With a sudden idea in mind, I went to the clothes cupboard and pulled out a small box. "There's money enough here to buy the horse. You have the master put your name on the receipt." I frowned at Bessie's knowing grin. "It's for the horse's sake. You know how much I love animals – horses especially."

"Oh, of course, dear, of course," Bessie said, nodding as she took the box.

"You have an evil sense of humor," I said. "Now off with you, I have packing to do."

I shut the door behind her then rested my head against its solid frame, thinking again of Ravencrom and his questions. When I had first gone to Brother Paxton for training, he too had questioned my reasons for leaving the Sisters of Elune to follow the Light's teachings. It was strange I found it no less a painful question now as I did then. For all the Brother's gentle teachings did I not learn anything? I traced the grain in the wood, thinking how the darker rings looked like scars. Suddenly I felt very tired and decided my packing could wait. If the good lieutenant was going to attack me again on both fronts tomorrow I would need my rest.


	8. Chapter 8

I paused on the landing outside my room, not ready to face the moment I had been dreading since I had awakened that morning. Would I always find myself at the top of stairs expecting to meet an irritable man at the bottom, I wondered with a grim smile. Then again it seemed all humans were like that; as willing to make love as to fight, just as long as there was plenty of noise in either case.

Pausing at the bottom step I saw that Thom was alone at the table and I let out a sigh of relief. He smiled up at me as I pulled out a chair to sit next to him. "The lieutenant is outside getting the horses ready, Miss Aengeal. I heard about you fainting yesterday afternoon – are you feeling better today?"

"Much better, yes, thank you," I said. "I shouldn't have any problems on this trip."

He finished the last bite on his plate and picked it up to take it to the kitchen door, pushing it open to signal to someone in there. One of the scullery maids took it from him, glancing at me before going back into the kitchen.

"I told them to bring your breakfast out," he said as he headed out the front door.

I got up and went to the kitchen door, looking for the maid who had talked to Thom. There were a couple of girls busy at their chores in the huge room and a boy was stacking wood beside the fireplace. I was disappointed there was no Bessie to see me off this time. Suddenly I didn't feel like eating and had one of the girls wrap the food up for later.

Outside, the two men were waiting on their borrowed mounts. Thom was holding Misty's reins while Ravencrom struggled to control the fractious horse under him. The flashy black gelding had a vicious temperament and was a donation to the army by its unlucky owner. No doubt the horse master felt he had gotten his revenge on Ravencrom by assigning the black to him.

I went to my mare, marveling once more at how clever she had been to find her way home without a scratch. It had been hard leaving her behind when we had rescued Thom from the wolf cult trappers at Silverbrook. I had thought for sure she would never forgive me for deserting her.

With everyone mounted we left in single file heading north by northeast, Ravencrom leading and Thom bringing up the rear. It was going to be a fine day. The last of autumn was giving way to winter, the morning sunlight golden and the sky a clear fresh blue.

I would have enjoyed it far more if I hadn't found myself wary of Ravencrom's every move, mindful to keep a discrete distance between us. As humans went he wasn't uncomely but aside from that one flash of humor during that long ago breakfast, he seemed too dour and opinionated. It was a point in his favor however at how patient and gentle he was towards his temperamental horse. Not once did he raise either hand or voice towards it no matter how determined it was to provoke him.

We traveled in silence for the most part, past the destroyed Aspen Grove trapper camp near the remains of Vordrassil's Limb, then the Blue Sky Logging Grounds where the sounds of the woodsmen cutting down trees made me grit my teeth at the wanton destruction. Childhood memories of what loggers had done to Windshear Crag came to me then, trees killed for no reason and the soil gone, washed away into the despoiled Blackwolf River.

Thom suggested stopping for the midday meal at a camp just outside Grizzlemaw, where the bear-people furbolgs had made a home out of Vordrassil's gigantic stump. A blind woman called Ruuna lived alone there and was a trusted source of news in that area for the Westfall Brigade.

Ravencrom had balked when Thom had also mentioned she was from a trapper family. Listening to the men talk, I was impressed by Thom's determined good nature as he deflected the older man's thinly veiled hostility. Ravencrom finally conceded when Thom pointed out it was safer than lunching out on the open road as long as we were careful of what we said.

The massive fallen trunk of Vordrassil was slowly revealed as we climbed the higher ground, a sign we were drawing near to the camp. With the World Tree's ruins nearly blocking out the sky, Thom led the way down the hill to where a pass had been carved through a piece of the trunk. A little house-wagon, strung with beads and bits of metal, was parked in a small, neatly kept clearing off the main road. A brightly colored rug had been laid out over the dirt and on it a table had been set, barely big enough to hold a white globe and the cushion it rested upon.

A grey haired woman with a blue cloth covering her eyes was sitting on the wagon's front stoop, drinking from a mug. Her clothing was mismatched but looked clean. "Welcome, travelers," she called. "I am Ruuna."

"Greetings," Ravencrom said as he dismounted. "My name is Niall Ravencrom and this is Aengeal Gladefire and Thom Stelward."

"Ah yes, lieutenant, I have heard of you. And you, too, healer," she said, smiling.

The defeat of Ravencrom's small ruse to mask our military ranks moved me to step forward and bow before the woman. "The Light's Blessing upon you, Wise One."

"Ah, I am not so wise, healer. Seeing too much sadly does not necessarily impart wisdom. But I do thank you for the blessing. What may I do for you?"

"We ask merely to share your fire," Ravencrom said. "We were hoping to stop here for our midday meal."

"Make yourself to home," Ruuna said. "I am always glad for the company." She felt about her for a safe place to set her mug then stepped down from the wagon's porch. Carefully skirting the campfire, she stopped at the little table and rested one hand on the white orb.

"I am often asked to foresee the future though personally, I think the past can be far more illuminating," she said. "Would you be interested, Lieutenant? All I ask is a few silver in return."

Ravencrom shook his head. "The future gets here soon enough and the past is dead."

I looked to Thom and could see the conflict on his face as he put his hand on his money pouch. I knew he wanted to know if he would safely find his way back to Rose and my heart went out to him but he let his hand fall away.


	9. Chapter 9

"Respectfully, I beg to differ, Lieutenant, for the past haunts you now. You think to keep the innocent safe and yet you are dragging them with you into danger."

Ravencrom put his hand on his sword's hilt. "And how do you know this?"

Ruuna smiled. "I am not the one for you to fear, Lieutenant. I merely offer to show you this dead past you so easily dismiss. For you I hope it does bring wisdom. On the table is a potion. Drink it and then gaze into the orb. Come, come! It will not hurt you. Unless for you the gaining of wisdom is painful?"

Ravencrom opened his mouth to answer but I forestalled him, plucking at his sleeve. "I'll be able to tell if it is poisoned or not, Lieutenant," I whispered, smiling down into his angry blue eyes.

"No need to do this," he said and he grabbed me by the arm. "We do not know this person," he whispered.

"Are you questioning my abilities, Lieutenant?" I said and then wondered why I was trying to manipulate him. The calculating look he gave me I could have sworn held a hint of amusement and I felt the heat rising in my face. He released me without another word and I walked over to Ruuna, bowing again to the blind woman.

"I will try this, please." I went to the table behind the other woman and picking up the vial there, held it up to the light and then to my nose. "There's something in here I don't recognize," I said. "The smell is musty. Something like . . . an insect?"

"You are very sharp!" Ruuna said without turning around. "Yes, gossamer dust from the fern feeder moths."

I went to her side and placed my hand on the globe. The milky colored object felt cool to the touch but was otherwise unremarkable. I studied the face of the woman beside me and realized how much I wanted to see her eyes and perhaps glean what she was thinking. I raised the potion to my lips, my eyes on Ravencrom's grim face, and drank.

The liquid was cool and tasteless and the strange musty smell went up my nose as I held it on my tongue for a moment before swallowing. While I looked into the now swirling mist in the globe, I set my awareness on what the potion was doing within my body.

Darkness enveloped me and then faded into shadows that wavered and danced. I was standing in a great hall festooned with ragged banners I could not decipher. Four beings surrounded a ghost who floated transfixed in their dark beams of magic while a fifth watched from the back of an undead demonic horse.

"Arise, Arugal!" the rider shouted, the sound of that terrible voice cutting into my chest to seize my heart. "The Lich King commands you!"

I gasped in horror and found myself once more in sunlight. Ravencrom was holding me by one arm while Thom held the other. I felt as if my legs were about to fail me. "Archmage Arugal has come back from the dead," I whispered. "He's behind the wolf cult here in Grizzly Hills!"

Ravencrom's eyes held no surprise at the news while Thom's face went pale. Whatever Ruuna thought remained a mystery as she stood unmoving among us.

I shook myself free. "That's what you've been hiding, Lieutenant. You knew about the cult when we were at Silverbrook."

"My orders were exactly what I told you before: keep my eyes and ears open and maintain the present status." He held up his hand before I could continue and shot a look at Ruuna. "We've wasted enough time here. Mount up."

"The fastest way to the Westfall Brigade is to follow the road south and then to cut north once you've passed the furbolgs," Ruuna said. "It would take half a day off your journey, lieutenant."

Ravencrom looked to Thom who nodded in agreement. "Thank you," he said. "But I think it would be safer if we went back and around to the north."

Looking at each of us, he put his finger to his lips while pointing to where our horses stood waiting. Once we were mounted, he lead the way back up the hill to the main road and stopped, motioning us to come closer.

"We'll go the way she said but closer to Grizzlemaw," he said quietly. "We'll be able to hide our tracks if we go through the furbolgs' camps."

"Why do you think that necessary, Lieutenant?" I said.

"How did she know we're going to the Westfall Encampment?"

I gasped, stunned into silence.

He looked at each of our faces in turn. "I don't care to make it easy for whoever she reports to."

"But Captain Stoutmantle trusts her," Thom said, frowning. "She reports to him."

Ravencrom shook his head. "Times like these best to save your trust in others."

With that he hauled his horse's head around and spurred it into a gallop down the path to Grizzlemaw. After a moment of surprise, we followed. He motioned to Thom to move up level with him and for me to fall in behind them.

The bear-people, tall as a man on horseback, were running from one side of the path to the other in a confusion of either red or white furred bodies. The air shuddered with their roars and the clash of weapons. A stench of blood and excrement was heavy on the cold wind.

As we passed into the thick of their battle, Ravencrom gave the signal to split up and pointed to the tree line ahead on the other side of a small stream. I leaned low over my horse's neck, trying to present as small a target as possible. The furbolgs were too wrapped up in their fighting to notice us in their midst, though I did see a lone white furred bear-man hit Ravencrom with a polearm, the weapon bouncing off his armor without slowing the man one bit.


	10. Chapter 10

Once among the trees I reined in my horse, walking us in until I could barely hear the fighting behind me. Neither man was in sight. The sound of a horse off to my right moving away from me sounded like Ravencrom's, which meant the horse behind me to my left was probably Thom's. I whistled in the direction of each man and heard their horses stop only to then continue going in the wrong directions. With a quiet snort at the deafness of humans I urged my horse towards Ravencrom, my mare moving like smoke through the thick undergrowth.

I found Ravencrom before he saw me. He had stopped his horse on a rock outcropping, his helm resting on the saddle horn as he turned his head this way and that as he searched the woods around him. In the dim light his reddish-gold hair gleamed above the shoulders of his dark armor. His horse nickered at mine and he twisted in his saddle towards us as if startled.

"Didn't you hear my whistle?" I said softly as I urged my mare towards him. "I called twice and you kept going the wrong way."

"I thought I was hearing a real bird," he said with a lopsided grin as he put his helm back on. "Let's go find Stelward. I bet he's twice as lost."

I shook my head. "No, actually he's not that far from us. Follow me."

I made to turn my horse around but stopped when I heard distant voices. "Wait. There are two people arguing – in that direction," I said pointing northward. "Human male and female."

"Stelward first," Ravencrom said. "Besides, I don't think it's wise for us to be nosy."

I nodded in agreement and then led the way back to where I had last heard Thom's horse.

"Where are we in relation to Westfall Brigade, private?" Ravencrom said once we were all together.

"Not far – maybe a day's ride," Thom said. "These hills might slow us down some though and there are trappers and bears all through here. The Horde have an encampment to the southeast so they probably have units patrolling these woods too."

"I'm not hearing anything good, private. Are there no friendlies nearby?" Ravencrom said, frowning.

"There's a girl I used to know at the White Pine Trading Post, to the north. It does sit on a trail that will take us to the Brigade."

"That's the direction I heard voices," I said.

"Used to know," Ravencrom repeated. "Did you part as friends or will she shoot you on sight?"

Thom chuckled. "We're friends."

The lieutenant nodded. "Then proceed with caution, folks," he said and motioned to me to take the lead.

I pulled up in the last of the trees' shadows and peered ahead into the sunlit clearing of a small trappers' post. A man with grey streaks in his black hair and a younger brown haired woman were seated across from each other at a large rough table. The woman looked to be about Thom's age. I looked back over my shoulder to him and he nodded, at which Ravencrom gave the go ahead.

We had no sooner cleared the trees than the young woman jumped up and stooping to the ground, picked up a rock and threw it at the man across from her, hitting him hard enough to knock him to the ground. She then ran to the building behind her and returning with a rifle, pointed it at the prone man.

"Sasha!" Thom yelled. "What are you doing?"

"Grab him, Thom!" the girl said. The weapon in her hands did not waver. "He killed my father!"

The man sat up and put his hand to his head, cursing when he looked at his palm and saw the blood on it. "She lies. I did no such thing."

Thom jumped down from his horse and pulled the man to his feet. "I would trust her word over yours, Anatoly." He snorted in distaste. "Gah, you stink of stale beer."

The gun went off and Anatoly spun out of Thom's grasp to fall again to the ground. Ravencrom's horse reared and bucked, nearly throwing him out of the saddle. While startled as first, Misty stood firm and I got down and ran to the girl. I struggled to take the gun from her but only succeeded in keeping the weapon pointed at the ground.

Finally getting his mount under control, Ravencrom dismounted and quickly tied the reins to a pole. The animal stood with head down, its whole body shaking and legs splayed. He stalked towards me and the girl like an earth bound thunderstorm.

"My sister," Sasha whispered as Ravencrom jerked the weapon out of her hands. "They took my little sister. And that – monster – won't tell me where she is."

"You're accusing a drunkard of murder and kidnapping?" Ravencrom said. "You shot an unarmed man!" He turned to Thom. "Just how well do you know this woman?"

Before he could answer, I summoned a small healing spell and cast it on the man at Thom's feet. His reaction startled us all as he screamed and clawed at the wound in his shoulder.

"I tried to heal him and he acts like the Light burned him," I said, fear rising within me. "He's not what you think he is."


	11. Chapter 11

Sasha sagged and would have fallen to the ground if Ravencrom had not caught her. "I knew it," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. Ravencrom helped her to sit at the table, propping the rifle against it. She covered her face with her hands as the sobs wracked her body.

Thom rolled Anatoly onto his stomach and pulled his hands together to tie them behind his back, using the extra length of the rope to also secure the man's ankles.

"I thought he belonged to the wolf cult, but I had no proof," Sasha said, wiping her face on her sleeve. "He has a wife, Tatjana. She's the horse master in Solstice Village, up the trail." She looked up at Ravencrom, her hands clasped before her on the table. "If we capture her he'll be willing to trade her for my sister."

"How many people are in this village?" he said as he studied the bound man at Thom's feet.

Sasha turned to check the sun's height. "It's getting towards sunset. The men will be returning from their hunts soon. Maybe a few women and children?"

"So we run in and grab her in broad daylight without a fight?" Ravencrom shook his head. "Not likely."

Sasha sat as if in thought for a few moments. "I do have something that might help." She went back to the watchtower and returned with her arms full of clothing which she put down on the table.

"Ruuna made these darts for my father – he wanted a humane way to trap bears so he could study them." She pulled a small case from the mound of cloth. "But these darts weren't strong enough to put them to sleep. He . . . he was never one to throw anything away," she said, wiping away fresh tears with the back of her hand.

She held up the pistol she had pulled from the case and pointed to the row of wooden darts tufted with fur in the container. "Shoot Tatjana with one of these sleeping darts. They might just be strong enough to use on a human. We're going to need her alive if we're to have any leverage with Anatoly." She looked up into Ravencrom's face. "Please. For my sister, Anya. She's only five years old."

He held out his hand for the weapon and she gave it to him, hope brightening her tear stained face. Ravencrom pointed at the clothing with his other hand, eyebrow cocked in a silent question.

"Some of my father's old clothes you could maybe use for a disguise." She looked at me, taking my measure from my feet to the top of my head. "I . . . I don't think I have anything that would fit you, healer."

"Yes, I am a little taller than you," I said smiling, making a light jest at the significant differences in our heights. Neither of us made mention that my ears would also be impossible to hide.

Ravencrom snorted without looking up from his study of the pistol and the darts. "I'll stay here and guard Anatoly," I said, ignoring him.

"You stay here too, Sasha," Ravencrom said. He went through the pile of clothes and after making his choices, tossed some to Thom. "Let's get this over with." He headed towards the post's watchtower with the younger man in tow.

I went to my horse and pulled a bundle of food from the saddlebags. I should have eaten breakfast when I had had the chance. I felt shaky and half starved to death. Going back to the table I offered to share with Sasha but she shook her head. I flipped open the napkin and ruefully thought it was a good thing she had refused, there wasn't much worth sharing.

"You've had something planned for some time," I said as I pinched the crumbs together. I frowned in disappointment at the results and waited for the girl to decide whether or not to talk. After all it wasn't such a bad day, I thought wryly. The sunlight was a delicious warmth on my back at least.

"I don't know for sure if Anatoly was the one who did kill him," Sasha finally said slowly, her spiritless voice as soft as death on the wing. "But I know he had a hand in it, somehow." She sighed and I stole a glance at her. There were no tears now, only determination on her young face as she traced the whorls of a knot in the tabletop with one finger.

"He laughed at me when I said he did it. Then he said they had my sister. He said if I told anyone my father was dead they would kill her. Me? He had to keep me alive until the quartermaster at Westfall Brigade paid for my father's last shipment." She looked at Anatoly as he lay face down in the dirt where Thom had left him. "Greedy bastard."

She clenched her hands into fists as her body shook with rage. I reached across and touched her arm. "I am so sorry," I said, tears springing in my own eyes.

Sasha shrugged off my hand and turned her back on me. The door of the watchtower squeaked open as Ravencrom and Thom came out, dressed in the loose shirts and heavy weight pants trappers favored. Sasha jumped up and ran to Thom, throwing her arms about his neck.

"Quite the ladies man," Ravencrom dryly commented.

I turned to him and frowned, then noticed how closely he was standing next to me. I took a step away, masking the move by tiding up the table. "Thom did say they were friends. Besides, he's engaged to a girl in Stormwind." I dropped the clothing in my hands to look up and find his eyes meeting mine.

Of course he wouldn't know I realized when I saw his face. Thom wasn't one of his men. Ravencrom's look became thoughtful and I realized I had confirmed that Thom and I were not a couple. Now would be the right time to tell him I wasn't interested in him either, I thought grimly. "Lieutenant, there's something . . .," I began, but he had already turned away.

"If I may interrupt," Ravencrom called to the others. Thom pulled Sasha's arms from around his neck and held them to his chest, saying something to her too softly for me to hear. She nodded and they joined us at the table.

"We'll ride up the trail to look around and assess the layout of the village. The objective is to grab her quick and get out without anyone seeing us. I would suggest you ladies be ready to run if things don't go as planned." On his way to the horses he looked down at Anatoly. "We fail; I'll make sure you die first."

The certainty in his voice sent a shiver up my spine. We watched the men get on their horses and ride up the trail. They were soon hidden from sight among the trees. I turned back to Sasha where she sat at the table, her eyes still locked in the direction the men had gone. I decided the girl was too quiet for her own good, like a spring winding ever tighter. Between the wolf cultist and the younger woman filled with rage, I didn't know who to fear the most.

I walked over to Anatoly to check on him, careful to crouch at a respectable distance. The blood had stopped flowing from the cut in his scalp. He opened his eyes, the irises a deep yellow set in black. He not so much as smiled as bared his teeth at me. Shuddering, I rose and went to my horse who greeted me with nose questing for a treat. I lead her to the water trough for a drink before tying her to a tree for the shade.

I went into the watchtower to gather up the men's armor. After a quick search I found bags that I could stack each set in and then once the pull strings were tied together, could be thrown over a horse's back. If we did have to run away at least their armor wouldn't be left behind.

Thom's armaments were plain, being mostly leather with roughly shaped sheets of plate attached. He had been stripped of his own at Silverbrook and once taken to Amberpine, dependent on what the quartermaster could find for him. Ravencrom's was well made equipment that was largely unadorned but kept in good repair. I could smell the man in the armor, reminding me of an aromatic wood that grew in the hot sands of Tanaris.

After that there was not much else to do but wait and hope for the best.


	12. Chapter 12

I heard the sound of running hooves and slipped into the darkness of the watchtower doorway to see who was coming. Sasha was still sitting at the table, her head down on her crossed arms. She looked up when Thom rode into the camp with a fair-haired woman slumped in the saddle in front of him. Ravencrom followed him in on another unfamiliar horse. He dismounted and held out his arms so Thom could let the woman slide out of his grasp down to him. Through all this Sasha watched the men intently, her stillness setting my nerves on edge.

The two men laid the captured woman out on the ground and Thom tried to wake her by slapping her face while Ravencrom held her down. The blows were not hard ones but the sounds were enough to pull Anatoly out of his stupor. He yelled at them, demanding that they not hurt her. Both Ravencrom and Thom turned to him as he fought his restraints, then Thom jumped up to go to him at a nod from Ravencrom. I turned my attention back to Sasha, just as she put the rifle to Tatjana's head. In her other hand she held a pistol which she waved in front of Ravencrom.

"If you move, healer, I will kill him," she called without looking away from Ravencrom's face. Her voice was devoid of emotion. "I will kill them both."

Anatoly openly wept, his tears turning the dust on his face into streaks of red mud. "Please don't shoot!" he cried. "Do not hurt Tatjana!"

"You're going to tell me where my sister is or I put a bullet through your wife's head." Sasha said, pushing at the unconscious woman's temple with the rifle's muzzle. "Where is Anya?"

"The wolf den on the other side of the mountain." He smiled openly then, exposing the fangs in his mouth. "She is to be a special gift for Arugal."

"One last thing, Anatoly," Sasha said. "I need to know where Arugal is."

"I'm not going to tell you until you untie me. You have to let me go to her."

Ravencrom studied Sasha's face as if the weapon she held on him did not exist. At whatever it was he saw there, he nodded and said, "Do it, Thom." The muscle in Sasha's jaw bulged and she raised the gun as if she meant to hit him. He didn't flinch or look away and she did not complete the swing.

Thom slowly untied Anatoly and no sooner was he free than he ran to his wife's side. He knelt and pulled her into his arms, ignoring Sasha, who had raised the rifle to target him. He cupped Tatjana's head in his hands, his fingers clenched in her yellow hair.

"Forgive me, Tatjana," he said. With a sudden twist he broke her neck and I gasped in horror at the sickening sound of the bones snapping. He laid her body down gently and stood, his clothes ripping off his body as man became beast.

"Nothing you do can compare to what Arugal can do to us!" He lunged at Sasha only to fall back to the ground as she fired both weapons into his belly, blood spraying from the mortal wounds.

In one fluid motion Ravencrom was on his feet and he punched Sasha in the face, knocking her to the ground. He reached down and grabbed her by the arm to pull her to her feet. "You need some sense pounded into you, girl," he said, shaking her. "You don't make friends by pointing a loaded weapon in their face."

"They are monsters," she said. "They don't deserve to live." Sasha laughed as she rubbed the rising red mark on her cheek. "Now help me rescue my sister."

"I'll do it for the little girl," Ravencrom said as he pushed her away from him. "I hope she won't grow up to be like you."

"The cave is on the other side of the village," Sasha said. "It'll be dark enough soon. If we're careful, they won't catch us."

They stood there for several moments, taking each other's measure. Sasha kept her distance from Ravencrom but the smirk never left her face. By the set of his shoulders Ravencrom was still angry and when he put up a hand to comb back his hair Sasha took a quick step back. He smiled at her as he dusted off his clothing.

"Right. Let's get things moving then," he said. "Thom, help me drag the bodies into the woods. Healer, go get our horses. They're not far up the trail."


	13. Chapter 13

By the time I returned to the camp with the horses, the men had changed back into their armor. All evidence of the two deaths had been erased; even the smell of blood was gone. I shivered at how deceptively peaceful and idyllic the trappers' post looked in the light of the setting sun.

I handed over the reins of their horses to the men and Sasha took for her mount one that had been stolen from the village. Now armed with a bow and a quiver of arrows, she led the way into the woods. Her plan, she told us, was to circle the base of the hill Solstice Village had been built upon to the cave. In the gloom under the trees I heard rather than saw things moving around us. Ravencrom urged his horse closer to mine, pointed at me and then at his ear. I shook my head and signaled "no threats" to him.

Finally, Sasha stopped her horse and dismounted. "From here we go on foot," she said and notched an arrow in her bow. Ravencrom and Thom unsheathed their swords as they followed her and I fell in behind them.

As we neared the edge of the tree line I could see flickering lights ahead. Torches had been set outside the mouth of a cave where a dead horse lay, the carcass half eaten. Several wolves were sprawled beyond it and as we watched, one raised his head to look in our direction. Whispering a quick curse, Sasha raised her bow and shot the animal. It spun around to bite at the arrow in its shoulder, its howls bringing the others to their feet. In the next moment the huge beasts were on us.

The leader jumped at Ravencrom who put up his hands to hold it by the head. Thom brought his sword down and severed its spine. Another had gone for Thom's belly, snagging its teeth in the leather below the chest plate. I grabbed it by the ear so I could cut its throat. When I looked up after wiping my knife on the animal's fur, Sasha was pulling the last of her arrows from the bodies.

"Did any get away?" Ravencrom said. "Are there any more?"

"No, on both counts," Sasha said. "At least for now."

I heard singing. "Sasha, I think I hear you sister," I said.

Sasha ran to the cave, taking one of the torches at the entrance to light our way. In the back was a rough wooden cage. A little girl looked out from between the bars, her eyes blinking in the light.

"Anya! You're all right!" Sasha cried as she ran to the little girl. She pulled out a knife and began sawing at the lashings between the slats. Then Ravencrom reached up and pulled a lever on top to spring the latch. Sasha knelt and took her sister into her arms.

"Sister! The mean men were going to take me to Badmoon Isle," Anya said. She wiped at the tears running down her face, smearing the dirt there even more. "They wanted to turn me into one of them."

"Badmoon?" Sasha repeated. "You mean Bloodmoon?"

"That's what I said!" the little girl cried. "Badmoon!" She buried her face in her sister's shoulder. "Sasha... don't ever leave me again!"

"Don't worry, little one," Sasha said. "No one can hurt you now."

She stood up, one arm holding Anya close at her side. "Bloodmoon Isle is just off the coast to the east," she said to Ravencrom. "After I take my sister to safety I'll meet you there. I'll bring as many friends as I can to help you kill him."

Ravencrom shook his head. "We should all go to the Brigade. More than enough help there."

"Yes. That is where I am going," Sasha said from between clenched teeth. "You have to go to Bloodmoon first. They're going to warn Arugal the instant they find Anya gone. Maybe they're looking for Anatoly or Tatjana now!"

"I don't trust you," Ravencrom said.

"Not enough of these monsters have died to pay for killing my father," Sasha said. "Trust in that, mister."

Ravencrom looked down at the little girl huddled against her sister, her eyes big as saucers as she stared back at him. He sighed heavily and nodded.

Without another word, Sasha picked up Anya and ran out of the cave. She went to her horse and as soon as she was mounted, pulled the little girl up into the saddle in front of her and was gone without a backward glance.

"I believe she said east, Stelward," Ravencrom said as he watched her disappear down the trail. "You know where this Bloodmoon Island is?"

"Yes, sir," Thom said softly.

Night came without the moon but the stars were enough for us to see the way as we raced across a land that slowly fell down to the sea. Our only caution was to watch out for the shoveltusk, as the easily irritated beasts were quick to charge and gore. At least I was able to hear their lowing calls over the sound of our horses' hoof beats before we ran up on the sleeping animals.

The salty tang of the sea strengthened on the wind as we neared the coast. Then the land sharply dropped to a grey sandy beach where the starlight rimmed the gentle waves with silver as they gurgled around the rocks. Thom pointed to a small island ahead, a tall dark tower at its crown and sparks of campfires at its feet. Ravencrom stopped near a pile of boulders at the waters' edge and pulled the spyglass from his saddlebags.

"There's one path that goes up to the top," he said. "There are a lot a people around those fires." He lowered the glass. "And worse things."

He returned the spyglass to his bags and dismounted. "We're going around to the back. Maybe there's another way up on the far side." He handed the reins of his horse up to me and began removing his armor.

"And if there isn't?" I said.

"Then we come back here and wait for that promised help. Failing that, we head to the Brigade."

I dismounted and taking up all the horses, led them behind a nearby rock fall. I rolled up the bottom edge of my gown until most of it was secured around my waist. As I went to rejoin the men I noticed my leggings were worn at the knees, almost past mending. Then and there I decided that if I lived through this adventure I was going to patch them and dub them my lucky drawers. I had the feeling a large part of luck and the Light's Grace were all that was going to see us safely through the lieutenant's mad plan.


	14. Chapter 14

By the time I returned to the men, Ravencrom had stripped down to his close fitting leather padding and without the bulky metal armor obscuring his body I could see a cat-like grace in his movements. He reminded me of night elf druids who could effortlessly flow from animal forms to their birth shape and back again.

"No plate is going to make this an interesting fight," Ravencrom said as he strapped his two handed sword to his back. "Hope I can remember my Uncle Jory's dirty tricks lessons."

"Dirty tricks," I repeated thoughtfully. "That's …" I gasped softly as the clues fell into place. "_Raven_crom. Your uncle is Lord Jorach Ravenholdt of the Assassins League?"

The lieutenant smiled and shrugged. "You don't get to choose your parents." He gathered up his discarded armor and took it back to where I had hidden the horses.

"I've been thinking about that heal you cast on Anatoly; how it hurt him," he said when he rejoined us. "At my signal I want you to use a holy strike spell against Arugal. We will have to throw everything we can at him."

My instant reaction to that suggestion was to flatly refuse to do it. No matter that it went against how I was taught to use the Light, but to use it to harm others would be another step towards the corrupting side of magic.

"I don't think that's how the Light is meant to be used." At his frown, I explained, "I've had little practice with that spell and I've never used any of my abilities to hurt others. It does take some time to gather the power for the spell – precious time when I won't be able to heal you or Thom."

"We'll do fine," Ravencrom said. "Whatever the fight, it's all in the timing." He leaned closer and took me by the wrist. "I trust you."

I looked down into his blue eyes and wondered what had I done to earn that trust. The warmth of his hand on my skin bemused me and I found myself unwilling to shrug it off. Then his easy smile began to fade as the intensity of his gaze deepened. I felt walls closing around me; I was trapped. A spasm of regret flashed across his face as he released me and turned away. He beckoned to Thom and after a moment I followed them into the cold, dark water.

On the far side of the island the cliff rose almost straight up out of the water. In the darkness even I couldn't see any protruding rocks or ledges we could use to help us climb it. The lieutenant ran his hand over the cliff face as high as he could reach and a few clods of dirt fell into the water, the sounds quickly lost in the waves' foam.

"At least it's not sand," he whispered. "Trick will be to cut handholds before we freeze to death. Got a dagger on you, Aengeal?"

"It's not very sharp," I said just as quietly as I handed the blade over to him.

"I would be suspicious of a healer who had a sharp weapon," he said. "Stelward, start your handholds a little further down from mine. Kick in the holes as you go. That'll either strengthen them or show their weaknesses."

We slowly made our way up the cliff face. I could see why Ravencrom had Thom cut his own course. If one grip failed, the other column could be used and if necessary we could go up the middle using one from each. It seemed we crawled up an endless mound of dirt and stone. Finally Ravencrom hissed and waved at Thom and I to stop. I looked up and could see the edge of the cliff above us outlined by a rim of light.

The lieutenant crawled forward until he disappeared over the top, closely followed by Thom. I leaned against the cliff and tried to rest my aching hands. At the touch on the top of my head I gasped, then bit my lower lip to keep from crying out as one of them grabbed a handful of my hair. Then I felt a touch on my neck as someone pulled on my shirt's collar. I grabbed the hand and felt mine guided to a clump of grass. On the other side of me someone took a hold on my pant's waistband and pulled me over the edge. The three of us sagged into an exhausted heap behind a jumble of large stones and dead weeds.

I rolled over onto my back as Ravencrom and Thom peeked through the undergrowth. The stars winked down at me as I flexed my sore, dirty hands, their light welcome beacons in the deep night. I wondered if I had made the right decision in leaving the Sisterhood of Elune for the humans' power. Was using the Light the same as using magic? Long ago one of the greatest night elves ever born had fallen under magic's sway and he had nearly destroyed the world. A breeze came up and set me to shivering again now that I wasn't moving. I unrolled my gown and the first touch of the wet fabric on my legs felt like ice.

"There's one guard at the back door of the keep," Ravencrom said. He picked up a rock and threw it at the man, making a soft sound of exasperation when it went far off its mark. The guard stood up at the sound of the missile hitting the ground but soon sat back down in the doorway. Ravencrom threw another rock but wherever it had landed it didn't make a sound. He bowed his head in frustration.

I sat up and signaled I would like to try my luck. At his answering shrug, I threw the pebble, only to hear a clink as it bounced off the man's armor. I immediately ducked, surprised I had managed hit anything at all. I peeked back over our cover to see the guard coming towards our hiding place. On impulse I slowly stood and waved to him. He looked from one side of the hilltop to the other and then continued to walk towards me. Just as he rounded the rocks, Ravencrom and Thom grabbed him and pulled him down. I turned away and covered my ears, not looking up until I felt a hand on my shoulder.


	15. Chapter 15

The guard was nowhere to be seen. Thom pointed to where Ravencrom waited at the doorway to the keep. I nodded and we ran to him through grass gilded by starlight. The room inside was empty and a musty smell came from heaps of unknown materials along the walls. Banners that had once lavishly decorated the hall now hung as dusty rags among thick cobwebs.

We slowly made our way up the creaking stairs. Ravencrom stopped us on the last landing before going alone up the final steps to an open hatchway. "Arugal is meditating at an altar," he whispered when he made his way back to us. "The only lights are some torches near him."

He turned to each of us, studying our faces for a moment. "Ready?"

I looked at Thom. He took a deep breath and I saw the bump in his neck bob as he swallowed. "Can't we wait a little longer for help, lieutenant?" I whispered.

"Do you hear them?" he hissed. "If that help Sasha promised was here I know you would hear the fighting," he said with a glance at my ears.

"This is a needless gamble," I said. "If we live through this I'm reporting you to Captain Stoutmantle for recklessly endangering us. That is, if I don't kill you myself first!"

Ravencrom flinched as if I had actually slapped him. His recovery was quick, however. "Then best you keep us alive, healer," he said with a lopsided grin.

At my answering nod, Ravencrom went back up the stairs and motioned to Thom to take position on his left. Fear had me sick to my stomach and I wanted to run away, thinking that this damn fool was going to get us killed in a wasted effort.

The two men slowly made their way across the rooftop and after a few moments I followed. Arugal indeed had his back to us, green fel magic swirling about him as he knelt with head bowed at an altar at the top of a low platform, lit on both sides by torches as tall as a man.

The instant Ravencrom placed his foot on the altar's dais, the archmage turned and released a flurry of spells that knocked us all to our knees. I stood and sent healing spells on Ravencrom and Thom as they both ran up to the mage who had by then had cast a shield about himself.

The night was filled with the sound of magic ripping through the air and the ringing of metal as their swords glanced off the mage's arcane shield. The flames on the torches whipped and bellowed. As I sent each heal to the men the Light sang throughout me and I trembled in fearful exultation. Tears ran down my face as I fought to keep focused on keeping Ravencrom and Thom healed and to dispel the magics the mage cast to slow and cripple them.

Finally Arugal was weakening. The cast times between his protective shields lengthened and each new one ended quicker than the one before it. Blood was seeping from tears in his robe and pooling at his feet. At Ravencrom's yell I sent a last mending heal to him and then focused on building a holy strike, trying not to think of the damage the two men were taking or how using the powerful spell was going to affect me.

I summoned almost every iota of my energy, fighting the urge to submit wholly to the Light's embrace. With a feeling of something greater forcing its way through me, I cast the spell at the mage. As the flames of the Light enveloped him Arugal stood transfixed with arms outstretched, his mouth gaping in a silent scream. His eyes found mine and I shrank back from the force of the hatred in his black eyes. As the last breath of his life slipped away, he cast a spell at Ravencrom who fell over backwards, his sword flying from his hands. The belling metal cries of the weapon as it bounced across the rooftop cut through my head and I put my hands over my ears in a vain attempt to shut out the sounds. In the emptiness of a held breath Arugal crumbled, holyfire enveloping his body in a silent blaze until nothing remained and then it too was gone.

I ran to Ravencrom's side and gasped in horror at the discoloration of his face. Under my palm I could feel his heartbeat slowing as the spell drained his life. I called upon the Light to heal him, only to find little power answered my summon. He was going to die if the curse was not lifted soon. I bowed my head in silent prayer.

"So. Who was he?"

Startled, I raised my eyes to his. "Who?"

"The love that hurt you, my dear elfish owl," he said.

"You are very rude to ask, lieutenant," I whispered, at first smiling then biting my lip to hold back tears.

Ravencrom shrugged and then winced in pain. "What do I have to lose now?"

"And here I thought humans were natural diplomats," I said.

"I can be but why should I now? Besides, you looked at me first. Must have liked what you saw. Then you acted like I was . . . beneath your notice."

"I'm afraid I find your charm lacking, lieutenant. And your timing is horrendous."

"Ah, the lady calls a challenge!"

"Be still, lieutenant," I said. "You are in no shape to meet any challenge."

"I hear fighting," Thom said from the darkness beyond us. "It could be Sasha with the help she promised."

"Now, there is horrendous timing," Ravencrom whispered.

I heard the pounding steps of many people running up the stairs to the upper landing of the keep. I dared look away from Ravencrom to see Sasha, followed by several armed men. One of them was guiding Ruuna up the stairs. A trick of the darkness made it seem as if something huge billowed behind her but the shape dissipated as she came closer to the light.

"Is this the future you wanted him to see?" I said as she knelt beside him. "Why are you here? Did you come to gloat over him?"

"No, my dear," she said, her mouth pulling to one side in a grim smile. "Though he did end up where he was supposed to go, I will give him that."

I shook my head, confused. Then suddenly I did know. "You purposely let it slip you knew where we were going. You played on Niall's mistrust so he would go the one way that led to Sasha. You made darts that were too weak for a man who never threw anything away. How many have you manipulated to their deaths against this mage?"

The expression on the blind woman's face was more a compression of her lips to hold back laughter than a true smile. The immensity of her amusement chilled me to my core.

"It is always best to wait for the proper tool, my dear," Ruuna said.

I could only shiver at cold resolution in her voice. "He's dying and I cannot save him. Do something!" I cried.

Ruuna reached out and cupped Niall's chin in her hand. She mumbled something too low for me to understand, the rasping echoes making my ears itch. As the sounds faded so did the unnatural coloring in his face and I smiled in relief.

At the touch on my cheek, I looked up at Ruuna. "Give him a few moments and he will be fine." She smiled again at me but this time her lips stretched into a softer, almost motherly expression. She signaled to her attendant to help her stand and she was gone, back into the darkness.

Niall coughed and I looked down as he lay cradled in my arms, my hand still resting palm down on his chest. The beat of his heart was growing stronger. I swept back his sweaty hair from his face, marveling at how soft it was as it curled around my fingers. I traced the rim of his tiny ear with its fleshy lobe.

"Niall, Niall," I called softly but he slept on under the deep, uncaring night. Only then did I let the tears come.


	16. Chapter 16

I am the light that fills the void without beginning or end. A tiny speck intrudes and from that black point a stain seeps and as the center grows it begins to spin, filling my vision until all light is gone. Eyes open within that dark expanse and I gasp in horror at the hatred there. The edges of the darkness turn red as the licking flames of the Light begin to eat it. The last bits of it crumble and fade and I see a dead man, his features livid and twisted in pain. No, he lives! His chest heaves as he gasps for air.

"Aengeal! Are you all right?"

I opened my eyes. I was on my back, in a bed. Above me, the white cloth panels of a tent were aglow with the sun's light.

"Aengeal!"

I knew that voice. "Thom, I'm . . . fine. I think," I said. "Where am I?"

"We made it to the Westfall Brigade. Can I come in?"

I sat up and tossed aside the light blanket over me. I was still in the clothes from the night before and they stank of seawater and blood. Ah, yes, last night. We had killed the archmage Arugal and Ravencrom had nearly died after delivering the deathblow.

"Yes, yes" I said. My mind felt thick and useless. "Come in."

He pushed aside the tent's flap and stepped in. "That must have been quite an exciting dream you were having," he said, crouching on the ground beside my bed. "I think half the camp heard you calling out Ravencrom's name." He grinned, his green eyes sparkling. "That will certainly set some tongues wagging."

I covered my face with both hands and sighed. "Is he all right?" I looked up at Thom when he didn't immediately answer. "I need a bath and some clean clothes," I said, ignoring the knowing grin on his face. Humans can very tiresome with their noses in other people's business.

"I'll send someone to help you," he said as he stood up. He turned to go then paused at the flap, his smile deepening as he looked back at me. "Oh and yes, the lieutenant is fine. He's talking with Captain Stoutmantle right now. I'll see you later at the command tent."

After the tent's flaps fell together I sat and stared at the seams, thinking about the dire consequences of being both young and mischievous. Then tears suddenly welled in my eyes. I brushed them away, thinking madness must be at my shoulder with these moods jerking me from one emotion to the next. Get busy, I told myself. Don't think. Don't feel. Move on.

The mattress had been laid out on the hay strewn ground and a bear skin rug had been placed nearby. My pack had been left next to the bed within easy reach. I stared at it, willing my legs to move and my hands to pick it up. Instead, I studied its every crease and stain, trying to remember just how each one had managed to get there.

"Healer Gladefire." I heard someone call from outside the tent; someone female and a fellow kaldorei.

"_Turas, dorini_," I answered. "Please come in!"

She entered and bowed to me, both hands clasped together before her face. The upper half of her short blue hair had been tied behind her head in a tail and her skin glowed with good health. I felt quite wan and insubstantial compared to her. "I am welcomed. My name is Maevin Farmoon," she said without looking up. "I bring materials for bathing."

"Thank the Light!" I said. Her quick, startled glance at my face surprised me. Was I being rude? "A bath would be wonderful," I said softly. "Thank you very much."

"Captain Stoutmantle told me you were to be denied nothing," she said bowing again. She turned and opened the flap, waving to someone outside the tent. Two male humans came in with a wooden wash tub between them, water sloshing out of it despite their efforts to keep it steady. They set it down next to the bed and then left. One of them quickly returned with a bucket which he handed to Maevin before leaving again with a nod to me.

I could not get out of my clothes fast enough. The water in the tub was warm and scented with goldclover. When Maevin handed the soap and a washrag to me I held the bar to my nose, then jerked my head away at the smell. Standard army issue, good for cleaning clothes, dishes, livestock and people.

"Soap up and when you are ready I will pour this water over you," Maevin said, pointing at the bucket. "Captain Stoutmantle sends his regrets the conditions here are so crude."

"After last night just taking a bath of any kind is an exquisite indulgence," I said. My skin was going to feel the loss of several layers after using the soap but that would be far better than how it felt now.

"Forgive me for asking," Maevin said. "Have you known the captain for very long?"

"After the Second War he was assigned to a backwater post in Westfall," I said. "We – ," I stopped then deciding, what the hell," – were passing through and decided to work for him for a time."

"Then that explains your worry over Lieutenant Ravencrom," she said. "Since you have known him for that long."

I stopped scrubbing my hair for a moment, thinking curiosity wasn't only a human failing. On the other hand, was it that people of any race could feel the pull of hidden things?

"Rinse, please," I said. The water was a delicious warmth running down my back, sending shivers throughout my body. I hadn't realized how chilled I was. "No, the lieutenant was recently assigned to my unit." I stood and held out my hand for the towel. "Thank you for your help, Maevin. Please tell the captain I will be joining him shortly."

She bowed as she gave it to me and then turned and left.


	17. Chapter 17

I stood alone and naked, the focus of idle curiosity with only a sheet of cloth over my head to hold out the entire world. Shivering, I drew the towel tightly around me with numb fingers. I knew if I fell to the ground then I would never stand again. Slowly, by the Light so slowly, my body obeyed my commands to walk the few steps to my pack. It felt as heavy as a mountain as I lifted it onto the bed.

At first the simple ties resisted my clumsy attempts to release them and I nearly screamed in frustration. The fresh gown I pulled free had been scented with lavender and holding the fabric to my face, I savored the sweet smell before slipping into the garment. Bessie always had her laundress soak the clothing with essence of the herb in the rinse water. I could almost hear the stout dwarven innkeeper's voice, reminding me of the only home I'd known in this harsh land.

Finally dressed and feeling much better for the bath, I bundled up my dirty clothing and went in search of the Brigade's laundry tent. I had no problem finding it; the smell of the soap was easy marker to follow. As I handed over the small bundle to a young male human there I advised him to tell their laundress to have a care with my drawers and would she please mend them.

The look he gave me was wide-eyed and confused. I mentally shrugged at his strange behavior and asked for the location of the command tent. As I set off in the direction he had wordlessly pointed out, I passed another solder that began berating the first one about ruining his uniform in the wash. I put down my head and continued on, laughing at myself for my mistaken assumption. Apparently not all laundry was done by females!

A command tent had been pitched on the highest level of the embankment. The weather flaps had been rolled up to reveal a large table where Captain Stoutmantle sat talking with Lieutenant Ravencrom and Thom Steward. A stack of maps and papers, held down by several rocks, had been moved to the far end of the table where two officers stood in attendance.

"Eburianar Gladefire," Stoutmantle said, rolling out my name as if relishing every syllable. "So good to see you again. It's been what, seven years now?"

He got to his feet, a welcoming smile on his face as I approached. Deep, tired creases had settled into his face but his clear grey eyes were ever gentle. His black hair was now a soft ashen color but still thick.

"My Lord Protector," I said and reached out to touch his face. I jerked my hand back, startled and shocked at my presumption. A quick nab and he had snared it, bringing it to his lips to kiss it. That light touch sent a shock through me that nearly had me paralyzed in wonder.

I blushed, aware of Niall sitting forward in his chair and those blue eyes about to burn a hole through me. "Captain," I said as I bowed with my hand over my heart. "Thank you for remembering me."

"Gryan, please, there are no formalities here among friends," he said smiling as he led me to my chair. "We do seem to have a confusion of names, though. Lieutenant Ravencrom here has told me you're known as Aengeal now. As it appears we're letting so many things out into the open today, I'll tell on him as well. It's only fair, but first, breakfast."

I made busy work of filling my plate, mindful to not glance in Ravencrom's direction. "My use of a different name is no great secret, Gryan. I merely choose one I thought easier for people to say than my given name."

Stoutmantle laughed. "I still find it wickedly funny, my dear," he said. "For you see, Lieutenant Ravencrom is also known quite affectionately as "Folly"." He turned to Niall. "Where angels fear to tread, 'tis Folly to follow," he quoted. "And now he has his angel."

I looked up at Niall's flushed face as he stared at his plate. It didn't seem he enjoyed being called by that name. Stoutmantle watched Ravencrom with an outright grin on his face but his eyes seemed sad. I wondered how close all of our paths had come out there in the dry farmlands of Westfall.

The meal was finished in silence. I dared several furtive glances at Niall and noticed he had had his hair cut short, so much so that it seemed the barber had shaved him down to the skin around his neck and ears. My fingers twitched as I remembered the softness of his hair when I had brushed it from his face while he lay wounded. He was letting the hair on his chin grow however, its color a deeper red in contrast.

"Sergeants!" Gryan raised his voice to the officers at the end of the table, startling me into nearly choking on my food. He favored me with an impish grin before turning back to the two men. "Take Lieutenant Ravencrom and Private Stelward to meet the rest of their squad. Healer Gladefire will be joining them later."

Niall and Thom got to their feet without question and left after saluting Stoutmantle.

"Squad?" I said, turning to Gryan once they were out of earshot.

"The Ebon Knights in Zul'Drak have requested help, Anari," he said. I couldn't help smiling at his pet name for me. He knew the root meaning of the word "anar" and in adding the human "ee" sound to it he was effectively calling me a newborn leaf. That a human of a mere fifty or sixty summers would call a nearly immortal elf a child was endearingly amusing.

"I had a group ready to go but you showing up now is a portent I can't dismiss."

"Have a care where you think your guidance comes!" I said as a shiver ran down my spine. "The ghost in Roland's Doom was proof enough for me to question all gifts and guidance from the gods. Sentinel Starsong was given a weapon to fight demons after many prayers to Elune but in the end she brought forth worst things that curse our world still."

He nodded but I could tell my advice held no weight with him. "I think it's important for you to go even though it might be especially dangerous for you." He held up his hand. "I do not speak of the scourge. I know you have faced down your fair share of that horror. It's the death knights you'll meet. They hate the living in their own way no matter that we are allies."

"So you're talking me into . . . ?"

"Going," he said softly.

"I am not so sure of that," I said. "You have me frightened enough to balk and run."

"I remember when you came back from the Dead Mines with VanCleef''s head in a sack. Your hair nearly completely burnt off, your clothing in rags and bloody and yet you walked back to me on your own two feet. I don't think you know the meaning of fear."

I threw my napkin down on the table. "It was a good thing you gave me such a nice weapon as a reward for that little jaunt. I was of half a mind to return it back to you – very painfully!"

He threw back his head and laughed, a deep rolling sound I couldn't resist joining. Sitting forward in his chair, he wiped his eyes and looked at me. "What ever happened to that warrior you were running with by the way? He wasn't half bad."

"We went our separate ways a few years later," I said, shrugging. "I discovered that half bad, as you call it, doesn't mean the rest is good."

"I hope that bad experience won't ruin your relationship with Ravencrom."

I could only stare at him, so shocked my ears rang. "My what?" I finally choked out. The bread I had just swallowed felt like a handful of gravel in my throat.

Gryan frowned at me as I waited for him to explain himself. "I can tell he has feelings for you, Anari," he finally said softly. He opened his mouth as if to say something else but decided otherwise and leaned back into his chair.

My throat burned and I raised my napkin to my face to cough into it. "Heat of the moment," I said, reaching for my glass. "Nothing more than an emotional reaction because of the war." I sipped the water carefully so not to choke again. "Once that's finished, his infatuation with me will be over and done with as well."

He studied my face for several moments before getting to his feet and holding out his hand to me. "Time to meet the others, my dear." He patted my hand. "I feel I should warn you that one member of this squad is a mage. Please watch your temper."

I narrowed my eyes at him in mock anger and he laughed again. "You almost have that expression down pat!" he said.


	18. Chapter 18

We went down to the lower shelf of the embankment where most of the tents had been set up and were soon surrounded by a crowd of milling soldiers. Stoutmantle gave my hand one last squeeze as he motioned to one young man who took me off in another direction. As I leaned over to pass under a low hanging clothes line, my guide suddenly pulled me to one side into a tent. He raised his helmet just enough to show his face, putting his finger to his lips.

"Thom," I whispered when I saw his smile. "What is this game?"

"Captain's orders." He settled his helmet and lifted the tent's back panel. "Duck your head and stay low," he said. "We're to meet him now."

He pulled me through several tents, weaving through supplies and people who showed no surprise at seeing us. Finally he stopped and I bumped into him and nearly knocked him down.

"Private Stelward reporting, sir," he said as he saluted Captain Stoutmantle. He then went to the back wall of the tent where Ravencrom waited with a human male wrapped in a long fur lined cloak. Another human soldier crouched on the ground beside him who had two large axes strapped to his back.

"Sit here beside me, Healer Gladefire," Gryan said, patting the hay bale he sat on. I held up my gown as I made my way across the few steps to him so the hem would not trail in the soft ground. "I want to introduce you to Mage Aylwyne Seamarge and Corporal Guivre Lindorm. They make up the remainder of Lieutenant Ravencrom's squad you will be joining."

The mage nodded in greeting, and I smiled, remembering the first time I had seen one of his calling. From all the stories I had expected to see horns and cloven feet while purple arcs of magic danced about their form. No, no such visible signs warned one, but, oh, how their arrogance could burn!

There was something about the corporal, however, that drew my eye but I couldn't decide what it was that bothered me about him. He was so slight of build I wondered if the humans were reduced to recruiting those who had barely left their childhood behind. He still had his helmet on although everyone else had taken theirs off. Even the mage had pushed back his cloak's hood, revealing a bald head.

"The Ebon Knights sent a curious item to me from Zul'Drak," Stoutmantle said. "It greatly concerns me that it has my name on it. Whoever made it must know I would have it tested before accepting it and if they knew this, then why have it made in the first place? Certainly this gives me pause and I can't help but wonder if that is the real intent. I've requested that the Knights double their efforts to infiltrate the necropolis and with recent developments they've asked for reinforcements.

"Tonight you will be flown to Ebon Watch. Once there you are to report to Stefan Vadu."

The sound of someone scratching at my tent's opening pulled me from meditation. I grabbed up my pack where it sat beside me on the bed and parted the flap without lighting the lamp. The stars' light was enough to see Thom and Corporal Lindorm waiting outside. I fell in behind the young humans and they led the way towards the landing platform.

The gryphon master, Samuel Clearbook, nodded to us as we approached. Ravencrom and Mage Seamarge were already there, the mage standing with his arms crossed and face down with his back to the light breeze. The cold didn't seem to bother the others but they were in full armor. I went to the back of the platform where it fell away to the valley floor far below and looked up at the stars in the sky, facing into the wind to allow it to lift my unbound hair.

"By the Light, do you have to sing?" the mage said.

I did not realize my humming had been that loud. Despite the arrogant tone I thought his voice had a pleasantly deep sound.

"It's a beautiful night," I said softly. "The wind from the mountains smells fresh and clean." I held up my hand. "Did you hear that? A wolf howled and then another answered."

"Whatever you think of this night, it will be over soon, one way or another," the mage grumbled. He nodded towards Ravencrom. "Especially with him leading us."

"If you have a problem being in my squad, Ayl, then transfer out," Ravencrom said, his voice light and without a trace of hostility. In fact, his words were colored with that touch of amusement I found so annoying.

"Oh, I'm willing to take the hazard pay," the mage answered with a snort. "Besides, I'm the one person who's managed to live through all your forays. Healers, though," he said, looking at me. "They end up paying the ultimate price."

"But that's not now," I said, interrupting the lieutenant's angry retort. "At this moment the stars are shining and the night is fine." I sighed happily. "For an added bonus the laundry was very clever mending my lucky under wear. I can't help but think everything is going to work out fine."

Thom laughed wholeheartedly and the corporal softly giggled, the sound quickly smothered but nevertheless a betrayal. Who I thought was a boy was actually a young female. I looked at Ravencrom and Seamarge, but either they didn't notice or they knew and didn't care. The corporal could hide her sex behind her armor while I would be severely hampered if so disguised. I shivered, remembering Stoutmantle's warnings about the death knights, feeling as if I carried a targeting mark on my chest.

"Healer, we don't care to hear about your undergarments," the mage said.

It was amazing how much disdain he was able to weave into those words. "Well, that is what I wear under my gown, yes," I snapped, suddenly not in the mood to be charitable. "And why not talk about clothing?"

"Underwear is clothing worn close to the skin," Ravencrom said, his voice laced with soothing tones. "That's not usually a topic of conversation in mixed company. Are you talking about your leggings?"

The mage snorted. "Discussing clothing code regulations when quite possibly a messy death for all of us is hours away."

The gryphons behind us stirred, lifting their wings and craning their necks to scan the sky. I heard it then, the sound of many wings beating, coming closer to the landing. It wasn't until they were almost near enough to land that I saw the five black gryphons, their handlers dressed in dark uniforms.


	19. Chapter 19

"Your transports, gentles," Clearbook said. He reached out to shake each of our hands and give us a set of the flying goggles, same as he wore. "Good luck and safe landings!"

No sooner had the first bird landed in a spray of dirt and leaves than Clearbook motioned for Ravencrom to get in the saddle behind its handler. The gryphon master helped the lieutenant with strips of leather that were secured about his waist and then Clearbook slapped the handler on the back. She turned her great beast about and in a bounding run it jumped off the back of the platform. I ran to the edge just in time to see the gryphon rising in a circular fashion until with a final dip of its wings it headed out towards the west. I drew back from the edge to bump into Clearbrook's chest.

"No need to fear, miss," he said.

"That was amazing," I said laughing. "I can hardly wait for my turn!"

He chuckled and motioned to the next bird to land. Just as quickly Thom and then Lindorm were strapped in and flying off. The next in line was the mage. If he was looking forward to soaring on the high winds he gave no indication.

The last gryphon landed and I ran to the handler's side, needing no encouragement to take my seat. Handholds had been welded in place on the saddle's rear housing that extended past the cantle over the beast's hindquarters. Leather straps ran from a ring on the saddle under the handler's legs and were buckled about my waist for added security. Clearbrook's hand went down on the man's back and we were off.

I leaned forward to look over the handler's shoulder only to have him raise his hand to warn me off. We were over the cliff and airborne, the wind roaring in my ears. I had to suppress a yell of unbridled joy. I would have bounced hands free in the saddle if I had only dared.

I pushed down my goggles as the hulking ruin of Grizzlemaw loomed ahead and I wondered if Ruuna still had her wagon there. Lights shone inside the world tree's ruins where the furbolgs lived and I could see groups of them patrolling the ramp they had built inside it. Then we were over the Blue Sky River, the moon glinting off the tumbling water. The sound of deep rumbling drums came from the far south where Conquest Hold lay, almost to Venture Bay. There was a reek on the wind as we passed where the troll town Zeb'Halak still burned.

Up ahead I could see the other gryphons. We were gaining on those carrying the more heavily armored. The wind was getting colder and I could smell snow. Just as we passed over the Dragonspine Tributary we took a swing to the north and the gryphon under me worked to gain altitude. Starlit snow draped shoulders of a mountain loomed ahead and then quickly fell behind us. The land below was dark except for the spark of a fire. The other gryphons landed a bit west of that gleaming marker as one by one they offloaded their passengers and took to the air again.

As we swept down to where the others had landed I started to ask why we were stopping and got a mouthful of air fouled with a stomach turning stench. Pain racked through my innards and sweat broke out all over my body as bile rose in my throat. Gagging, I covered my mouth with one hand and pounded on the handler's back with the other. We landed with a hard bounce. The straps holding me in the saddle held firm, resisting my frantic efforts to free myself. I leaned over the side of the poor beast and vomited, fouling its feathers and my clothing.

Snow crunched as someone ran up and I was taken by both arms and held firm while a damp rag was clamped over my face. I fought them all, trying to scream, my legs still bound to the saddle.

"Aengeal stop," Ravencrom said. "Breathe slowly. It will help with the smell."

It was his hand over my mouth. I nodded and turned in the direction of his voice, tears running down my face. Somehow the flying goggles had stayed put and their protective coloring only served to blind me. My legs were finally freed and I was able to stand. He brought my other hand up to hold the cloth to my face but I wrapped my arm around his before he could move away. I did not trust my legs to keep me upright.

"This way," a strange male voice said. "You can clean up at the camp."

Judging by the sound of everyone stumbling through the deep snow after him, our guide had not provided any light. I raised my hand to take off the glasses but Niall grabbed my wrist. "Don't. Your eyes shine in the dark," he said.

I was of the mind to tell him it probably didn't matter if anyone could see me coming or not. More than likely they could smell me from a mile away.

"I warned Stoutmantle not to send females," the other man said, his voice pitched low but I heard him as clearly as if he was speaking normally. "This one proves my point. Women are weak. Men disregard their own safety to protect them."

"Captain Stoutmantle thinks otherwise, Valus," Niall said just as softly. "Counter his orders at your risk."

"Sending what's left of your armor after she's gotten you killed will be counter enough," Valus said. "If the death knights don't make her run first."

"What is their problem with women, besides the obvious?"

Valus snorted. "She can bring forth life. She is everything they have lost and will never know again. They will make you pay for reminding them of that."

My heart sank at hearing those words, remembering how Gryan had warned me. It had cost him dearly to ask me to go investigate the problem in Zul'Drak on his behalf. I could only hope I would live up to his faith in me.

We were led to a shallow pit that had a floor of unset stones so uneven I could not help stumbling over them. I reached up to take off the goggles and this time Niall did not stop me. Light from two shielded candles on a crude altar at one end barely illuminated the flag above it that was decorated with a picture of an open human hand, palm outwards. Overhead a cloth canopy fluttered in the wind. The sickening smell was suddenly gone and I was able to tuck the cloth Niall had given me in a pocket.

The only other person besides the five of us was a light skinned human male with copper red hair and beard. Over his armor he wore a tabard of the Argent Crusade and the scowl on his face looked as if it had made itself snug at home there with no intention of ever leaving.


	20. Chapter 20

Corporal Lindorm stood beside me and for the first time I could see into her helmet that she had the same coloring, even the same green eyes as . . . I looked past her to Thom and found myself meeting his defiant frown as he moved closer to her as if to protect her.

I turned around and began unbuttoning my gown. "Where is my pack?" I demanded of the scowling man I presumed to be Valus. "I need to get out of these clothes, immediately. Have someone bring me water to rinse my hair."

His eyes went to my chest, where my undershirt lay exposed. Paladin or crusader, in that moment he proved he was a male foremost. After meeting my eyes with a hate filled glare, he turned on his heel and left.

Niall took me by my upper arm, stopping me from opening my gown further. "How bright of you, healer," he muttered.

"Are you insulting my intelligence, lieutenant?" I said, frowning.

"More a comment on how the brightest light casts the strongest shadows," he answered, nodding towards Lindorm.

I looked after where Valus had gone. "Yes. Indeed it does."

I turned to Thom to ask him just who was this young woman with the same color eyes as his but he held up his hand in front of his chest and slightly canted his head to one side. Over his shoulder I could see the mage had drifted to the altar at the back of the pit. He stood with arms crossed and as I watched he rubbed his upper arms before blowing into his hands. I wondered if Thom's caution meant that the mage hadn't heard her laugh after all and therefore didn't know Lindorm was a female.

"Crag Steelbeard at your service, m'lady," someone said behind me, the voice unmistakably dwarven and almost startling me into leaping into Thom's arms. When I turned around, the dwarf bowed deeply to us over a bowl of steaming liquid in his hands, so much so the towel he had slung over one shoulder nearly slipped to the ground. At his side was a crusader with short brown hair but the most important thing of all was that the young human had my pack. He smiled and held it out for me to take.

"I'd be honored to help you clean up, Miss, seein' as there's no mirror about," Steelbeard said as I rummaged through my pack for a spare gown. "But we must hurry. The gryphons are on their way to take you on to Ebon Watch."

My search rewarded, I pulled out the clean clothing and then held it out to Niall. "Please don't snag it on your armor," I said as I undid the remainder of the buttons on the gown I wore. I shrugged out of the dirty thing and turning the clean side outwards, folded it up into a cushion. Steelbeard set the bowl down in front of me as I knelt on the padding before him and bowed my head.

"M'lady elf you are a priceless statue of mithril come to life," Steelbeard said as he gently ran his large but nimble fingers through my hair. "Such flawless white skin and hair. Not to slight your beautiful glowing eyes, of course." When he was done he deftly folded the towel into a snood around my head. "There," he proudly announced as he took measure of his handiwork. "That will keep ya from catching cold until your hair dries."

Leaning forward, I wrapped my arms around him, never minding that his glasses were smashed against my ear. "Thank you so much," I whispered.

I straightened and held out my hands to Niall for the clean gown. He bowed deeply before me with much circular waving of his free hand before ceremoniously holding out the gown across both palms. I couldn't decide whether to curtsey to him or box his ears.

Footsteps scuffed on the stones behind me. The young crusader had returned and was quietly speaking to Steelbeard. "They're here," the dwarf said softly as he bowed again. I turned back around to Niall and carefully lifted my gown off his arms. His eyes were looking elsewhere and a frown had brought the fine lines of his eyebrows together. I buttoned my gown with numb fingers.

The mage was the first to follow the young crusader out as if glad to be rid of the pit and on his way. Niall turned and followed him. I reached down and caught Steelbeard by his arm before he could leave as well.

"Is there any way to refresh this cloth's remarkable powers," I said holding it out to him.

He took the scrap from my hand and quickly walked to the altar. "One for me and the corporal, too, please," Thom said from behind me. Steelbeard took out a heavily waxed flat case from under the altar and grabbing a handful of the cloths inside, thrust them into my hands. "Off with ya," he said, waving his hands at us as if we were a flock of chickens. "And don't forget to wear yer goggles, m'lady elf."

The young crusader was waiting for us outside the pit. "Follow me," he said. "Single file, please." Corporal Lindorm immediately followed him as Thom took me by the hand and led me after them.

"She's my sister," he whispered, knowing only I would hear him. "Tater was the baby until I came along. Five of us and she's the only girl."

I stopped and pulled him closer. "Now I understand why she trained as a warrior," I said softly. A chuckle was his only answer.


	21. Chapter 21

The woods took on another life as I stumbled through the snow after him, blind in both sight and smell. The wind bit at my face where I held the damp cloth over my nose and mouth and the small touches of ice on my cheeks could only be snowflakes. The night was filled with the sound of the snow crunching as everyone fought their way through it. No owls called to each other and neither did any wolves fill the night with exchanges of news and gossip.

A gentle touch on my arm brought me to a stop and the loss of the wind's touch told me I stood among others. Someone leaned close to me, the contact a welcome holdfast to both my body and spirit. I heard the sound of huge wings beating closer, then claws and hooves striking wood. The creaking of leather as it was pulled and twisted. An exchange of soft words was followed by a thunder of wings that quickly faded.

Then came the sound of another gryphon landing and I was pulled forward and helped into the saddle. One of my hands was guided to a handle but when they tried to take my other hand I growled behind the cloth and shook my head. Straps went around my waist and I was pushed none too gently forward. There was a smack of a hand on flesh and the gryphon's hindquarters bunched under me. It ran uphill, its great wings beating. A sudden drop and I squealed in terror, but the great animal was already rising again.

The wind whipped my clothing close about me and I leaned forward until my head touched the handler's back. In great bounds the gryphon climbed higher until my lungs burned. Then we were soaring without a sound and I could hear a faint wild music that teetered from one mad rhythm to another before crashing in sharp clangs that drove straight into my skull. The horrible smell grew stronger as the cloth dried. My gorge rose in my throat and the pain of my aching skull and ears became nearly unbearable.

We landed but I remained in the saddle, trying to control my heaving stomach. Rough hands took me by one arm and the cloth on my back and jerked me off the gryphon's back. I looked up into the face of a male night elf but instead of amber, his eyes glowed a cold manic blue. In the weak light I could see his face was drawn into wrinkles and creases, something I had only seen on humans and dwarves.

He pulled my hand from my face and tore the cloth out of my fist. "Weakling," he said as he tossed it away. The timbre of his voice sent a shiver of horror up my spine. I covered my ears as if my mere flesh could truly block out that unholy sound. He pulled my hands down, trapping both in one of his and leaned closer until his lips brushed my ear. "Oh, how I know you love the sound of my voice," he said and laughed as I vainly fought to get free.

"Have you gone mad?" I whispered.

He grabbed me by the back of the neck and shook me as if I were a toy. His face inches from mine, he laughed through clenched teeth. Spittle struck my face. "Madness is my willing steed, little one! It rises under my hand every morning. It sleeps at the foot of my bed every night." He tightened his grip on my neck and my entire body convulsed in pain. A scream I could not voice echoed in my skull.

Cold roared into my flesh as if I lay in a river, the liquid stealing the warmth of my body. It washed over my face. I felt its icy touch on my stomach and down my legs.

_. . . . . . . . the moon . . ._

... rises over a sharp hill that becomes my raised knee. The glowing orb dances over my ruckled clothing, rushing at my face and exploding into sparks beyond number while below, an ocean of voices cry out in heartbreaking sorrow. A scream of agony, ripped from dying flesh, pierces the darkness – **HELP ME!** I am swimming among countless souls lost in nightmares; lost in a great devouring darkness.

There was a touch on my cheek colder than the tears running down my face. I opened my eyes and saw the death knight staring at his hand. Its ashen color faded as the skin bloomed with a vibrant reddish hue. His hand became a huge paw and I faced a dire bear. He threw back his massive head and roared. Then the druid changed into his birth form and embraced me, crushing me against his chest.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice once again free of those horrible tones. "I saw the markings on your face – Elune's Tears, Her blessed tears." He held up his hand again and we watched as the color dulled and then faded from his skin. He clenched his fist. "I will remember," he said. He looked down at me. "I had lost that when I died. My life is yours, Wise One." He turned to the others. "My brothers, release them!"

I felt his arms under my back and my legs as he lifted me from the ground. His voice vibrated in his chest against my ear, no longer a sound of horror and pain. I looked up and saw another death knight take his sword away from Niall's neck. The once druid stopped in front of him, setting me on my feet. Niall's eyes darted under bristling eyebrows as he searched my face. There was blood on his neck. I slipped free of the death knight's arms as I reached for him and tilted his head back.

"I can understand one cut, Niall, but two?" I had to hang on to his shoulders to keep from falling. "Damn, you are stubborn." I don't know what his answer was to that because suddenly everything went dark.


	22. Chapter 22

Someone was shaking me. I sat up and saw Niall sitting across from me, his face lost in the shadows of his helm. Behind him Thom and his sister huddled near a bonfire that gave little heat despite the roaring flames. Neither did it cast much light against the darkness. The mage sat apart but didn't seem to be feeling the cold now as much as the others.

There were three or four tents open to the harsh weather in a ring barricade made of sharpened logs set in the ground. Several death knights stood about talking amongst themselves in the drifted snow as if they were standing in the hot sands of Tanaris.

"What time is it?" I said as I closed my eyes again. I put both hands to my temples to try and stop the whirling in my skull. The smell and the sounds were still strong but they weren't making me sick anymore; at least not as much.

"Time to move out," the once druid said from behind me. "Time has no meaning here and neither does the light. We walk a dark land."

"You hear the voices of the lost souls," I said softly without looking his way.

"Constantly." His armor creaked as he stood and walked past us towards a short line of tents.

"What is your name," I called after him.

He stopped. "Shanker," he said without turning around.

Harsh laughter rang out from one of the tents and a blood elf female stepped out from its shadows. Her hair was the color of freshly butchered bones and her eyes burned an icy blue. "_Dor d'ana'no ash!_" she said, bowing to Shanker and then laughed again.

He continued on his way with barely a hitch in his stride to the tent where another death knight stood.

"How is your neck," I said as I stood and went to Niall's side.

He batted my hand away when I reached out to him. "Fine," he said without looking up.

A ghoul came towards us, strips of flesh hanging from the bones erupting through blackened skin, its arms full of leather goods. It dropped the stack at my feet then gibbered to no one in particular before running back to one of the tents.

"Don't mind Corpsedust," said a cultured male voice laced with faint tones of horror at my side. I gasped and whirled around. The human death knight Shanker had spoken to earlier bowed to me with his hand over his heart. "Stefan Vadu, at your service." He took Niall's hand in a firm handshake. "I see you like them tall," he said smiling.

"Actually I prefer them at eye level," Niall said. "But that's neither here nor there."

The other man laughed after a quick glance at my chest, then up at my face. He cleared his throat and smoothed the smile from his face. "The objective is to infiltrate the Voltarus necropolis and I've been collecting skins for your disguises," he said pointing at the pile of leathers the ghoul had dropped on the ground. "Unfortunately you will not be able to wear armor under them. There's only so much the magic can hide."

I reached for one of the skins and jerked back my hand in horror. "It's still alive!"

"Yes, as I said, there is only so much magic can do," Vadu said. "The smell and that small spark of life are necessary for the disguises to work without fail." He looked up at me, an implacable cold, blue stare. "I realize this is against everything you stand for, healer." He spoke carefully, gauging the effect of each word on me. I watched his lips form the words. I forced myself to be still as the unholy sound of his voice echoed in my mind. "If there were any other means to do this, be assured we would have taken that course. We freed what remained of an innocent soul so they can fight on, as it were, so that we all can be free of the scourge."

He went to the pile and taking up the one I had let fall, folded it carefully until it was the size of a small child. "Please be seated," he said, pointing at the ground. There was a gentle push on my shoulder from someone behind me and I stumbled forward. Without taking my eyes from Vadu's face I crouched beside the fire and folded my legs under me. He gently laid the thing in my lap. I looked down at it, my entire body shaking and tears began running down my face.

Vadu went down on one knee beside me. "Please," he said quietly but firmly. "We need healers."

His eyes, shining with the last of the Lich King's magic, met mine and I could understand Niall's frustration in not being able to see beyond the glow from mine. Had I been so long among humankind I now needed to see what those dancing orbs could tell me? I did know this was a man who would neither beg nor demand. So self contained as he was and his bearing resolute beyond the birthright of all humans with their damned stiff necks made him seem smaller in build than the norm. Had death introduced this force of will to him, I wondered, or had it purified what had already been there.


	23. Chapter 23

I closed my eyes and lightly touched the cobbled together disguise. The spark of life in the skins sent a faint tingling throughout my own and a shiver ran through my entire body. For the most part I could feel markers that were male and at least one that was female. I bowed my head in a prayer of thanks to the Light that none were a child's. Beyond that there was nothing that hinted at who these poor people had been. It could have been animal skins I was holding.

"I can do this," I said without looking up.

"Time to go then," Vadu said. He stood and signaled to someone behind me. "Shanker will demonstrate how to put on the disguises," he said. "The first time is somewhat disconcerting."

The once druid had taken off his plate armor, revealing form fitting padded leathers. Snapping one of the skins out of its folds he began pulling it on, starting with the feet. Once he had set his own within the suit he stood and carefully smoothed its legs over his and then shrugged into the arms. I could not help but watch in fascinated revulsion as the seam from crotch to neck began to close on its own, crawling like to like across his chest. The hood had been made from the skin of the face and head and when he pulled it forward that too joined, forming a single greenish lens in front of his eyes.

His form seemed to shimmer and I turned away with a shudder of nausea. When I looked again, I saw the magic in the suit had reduced his solid, broad shouldered body into that of a spindly creature with an oversized ball of a head. Even his ears were hidden and I quickly subdued an urge to reach out to see if I could touch them.

"Should you need to eat or drink, just peel the lens back only enough to allow for small pieces of food or the bare edge of a cup," Vadu said. "These suits are not meant to be used for very long."

Niall was the first one to go to the stack of disguises and pick one up. He shook out the folds then looked at Vadu. "They fit themselves to you?"

"Yes," Vadu said smiling. "The putrid abominations they are made from are quite large, so indeed, size does not matter."

From the smile on his face Vadu obviously thought he was being clever. If so it was wasted on Niall as he had already turned his attention back to the thing in his hands. It was a good point though. I could see the disguises fitting over even the massive body of a tauren warrior.

Niall let the skin fall to the ground in front of him and began taking off his armor, neatly stacking each piece beside the fire. There again I found myself watching him, thinking how his fair skin and red gold hair did not match his body's deadly grace. No, rather he should be as dark of hair and manner as most assassins were instead of looking so much like a winged Child of the Light.

I frowned and looked down at the disguise in my lap. At least since I wore nothing but cloth it would fit without me needing to remove even my shoes. The only naked skin it would touch would be my hands and my face. I shivered at the disgusting memory of the hood's skin crawling together as it enveloped Shanker's head.

Thom and his sister stepped forward to take theirs from Vadu and after a moment the mage followed suit. Guivre took a quick look around to see who was watching then took off her helmet, revealing short brown hair the same color as Thom's. A death knight was watching from the eaves of one of the tents but when he saw me looking his way he turned his back on us. I thought back to Shanker's attack on me. Crusader Valus had been right but his fears had come to naught. All it had taken was for a goddess to use me as a means to reach the death knight and stop him. I wasn't sure how I felt about that – I certainly felt I was the same person at heart but surely having the power of a god course through me should have left something behind, shouldn't it have?

Pushing away all thoughts of being a god's plaything, I looked about to see what the others were doing. It was a joy to watch Guivre. Her every thought flashed across her pert, mobile face as she first examined and then put on her disguise. Thom was laughing at her and no doubt teasing her too. It was very plain these two were close. Earlier Thom had called her Tater and I made a mental note to ask him how she had come by that pet name. The mage took no notice of anyone else and as soon has he had done as he was told, he then waited impatiently for the rest of us to finish.

Niall had put his on while I had been woolgathering and had gone to sit beside Shanker. I realized I was the last one to do so. There was nothing to do then but put the damned thing on. I softly gasped in chagrin at that uncharitable thought and then bowed my head in a short prayer.

I slipped it on as quickly as I could, remembering Shanker's demonstration. The skin covering my hands was at first cold to the touch then it was as warm as my own. I twisted my hair into a loose bun before pulling the hood forward over my face. Its touch on the back of my bare neck sent chills running down my spine and then back up across my face. I nearly gagged as I tried to pull it away from my face for fear of tendrils going up my nose or into my ears. My hands were caught and held.

Through the lens of my disguise, Shanker's facemask was cast in sharp edged absolute shadows and bright highlights. "Calm yourself, healer," he said. "It can no more hurt you than I can." I heard a rumbling sound from him and wondered if he was laughing at me. "In a way, the skins are only a little less conscious than I am."

Vadu cleared his throat and once he saw he had all of our attention he waved us closer to him. "Some advice for you. Squat or sit whenever you are still. Do not stand. Try to stay close to Shanker, who will be your guide, but don't worry if you lose him. There are others in disguise in the necropolis but have a care when approaching anyone. You won't be able to see that they are the living until you are very close to them." He went to each of us and shook our hands. "The Light's grace on you all."

As we started out I heard someone calling, "_D'ana'no, D'ana'no!_" It was the female blood elf, running after us. She laid her hand on Shanker's arm, her smile revealing teeth filed into points as she handed over a small leather case to him. He took it without comment and latched it onto his belt.

When she walked away, I leaned closer to him. "What does she call you?" I whispered.

"It means 'Redeemed'," he said. "To Bloodrose Datura that is an infinite jest." He shrugged and raised his hand to signal to the others to continue.

"Why is that," I said softly, then with a pang of worry I wondered if he would attack me again. Someday curiosity will be the death of me, I chided myself and tried to keep up the facade of a smooth face to hide behind.

He dropped his arm and looked down at his feet. "When I was a servant of the Lich King, I was not self aware; I lost who I was. When Highlord Fordring freed us, I found I had forgotten what it was to be alive." He raised his face to mine. "Then through you I was . . . reminded. So now I know and I am aware of both death and life. I haven't yet worked out if life as I know it now has taken a turn for the better or not." He looked after where Datura had gone. "She thinks it very amusing to twist the knife of uncertainty in my soul."


	24. Chapter 24

Once we were beyond the ring of shaped logs around Ebon Watch it began to snow, the flakes softly falling to lie in hollows around patches of brown dead grass. Decaying ghouls and abominations shambled and lurched among broken down temple walls and huge thorny trees with red-purple leaves. Shanker led us in stops and starts, weaving a careful route around the twisted creatures to a wide broken road. He reached over its curb to lay both hands against the worn cobbles.

"You don't always see The Hope Ender coming," he said. "But the world hates him and gives warning to those who know how to listen."

"Hope Ender?" Niall repeated.

"Thrym. A flesh titan created by dark arts," Shanker said. "Not our concern beyond avoiding him." He looked up and down the road again before signaling to us to follow him.

He led us around drifts of dead leaves that covered the road among puddles of stagnant water. Once in the snow on the other side, a sound pulled my head around to where the road ended in a pile of broken stone. In the distance I could barely see a white shimmer standing tall, like a tree. The sound had the song of birds and other living things woven into it, energized by green magic. My heart ached to join that music and add my own to its undying cycle.

The ground began to vibrate and then tremble under my feet. Foolishly I looked down and then turned at a harsh clanking behind me where huge metal feet pounded the road. My eyes traveled up legs taller than the trees the monster walked through as if through soft grass, then to the wide expanse of a chest, the pallid flesh crisscrossed by festering seams. Above a metal jaw bigger than a city gate on edge two eyes blazed with green fel malice.

Someone jerked me by the arm, nearly sending me sprawling into the snow. Before I could get my balance, I was picked up by one arm and a leg and after a quick turn I was airborne. A scream caught in my throat, my mouth wide in a gasp of astounded horror. I hit the ground among rocks and tree limbs, the impact taking my breath away.

I looked around to find myself among my disguised friends; they had been the bruising lumps I'd fallen on to. One of them leaned forward and thumped me on the forehead, hard enough to be felt through the disguise.

"Are you all right?" The voice was unmistakably Niall's. I rubbed the sore spot, wishing I had landed on something softer; a mountain range, perhaps. At my nod, he said, "What, just your head hurts?" He pushed me off of him. "Good, nothing important was broken, then."

"Have a care how you treat her," Shanker said, his voice rumbling with anger. "That was my fault. I did not warn her about the Crystalsong Forest. She heard the magic of the Emerald Dream through the Great Tree and the voices of her ancestors in the ruins of Shandaral."

Shanker went down on one knee at my feet and bowed his head over his clasped hands. "Forgive me, Wise One."

"You don't have to kneel to me," I said as I sat up. His reverence towards me was suddenly quite tiresome. "I am no one worth venerating."

He jerked his head up in surprise. "I felt Elune's touch! I saw her mark on your face." He raised his arm before my face. "You cannot deny what we both saw."

"I was merely a conduit for something I can't explain," I said. "Perhaps we should be bowing before you."

"Enough of this magic talk, we've got other things to do," Niall said. "Besides, the world will break before anyone understands her."

I looked from one to the other as the two men faced each other. Without being able to see their faces I could not guess at what they were thinking. Their relaxed postures were an illusion as both could move at a moment's notice with an effortless deadly grace. Thom cleared this throat and at that small sound Niall and Shanker slowly settled back on their heels. I shifted to one side in the snow and dared to breathe a little easier.

The thorn tree towering over us had pushed aside the remains of a building, forming a three sided enclosure. There was a loud rumbling, groaning sound as if the world was breaking open but the ground under us didn't move. I peered over the remains of the shattered wall to find the sound's source. The land beyond was free of snow and in the low places the soil was the color of ashes as if its life had been eaten. Demon dogs with manes of fire prowled among the shattered ruins of machines made with whole trees. A huge flag with a blue background hung unmoving from a pole topped with a skull that was as tall as a human.

"Fighting the scourge with death knights is the same as fighting fire with fire as Vadu is fond of saying." Shanker had joined me at the wall.

"What was that sound?" I said.

"Don't you think the world roars in pain wherever the Lich King walks?" He looked back out over the horrible landscape. "It could be Gymer, King of the Storm Giants. He curses and threatens the Vargul slayers and deathwakers who guard his cage."

He turned to the others. "We need to get moving," he said softly. "We'll travel in a pack for now and hope that gives the demon dogs and slayers pause to attack us." He looked at each of us in turn and then jumped over the low wall. I leaped after him without seeing if the others followed.

The dead soil puffed up around our feet, leaving a slowly dispersing trail behind us. Shanker took us near the huge banner and I stopped to take a good look at it. A picture of the ensorcelled blade Frostmourne had been worked in silver upon it, backed by two maces that had been crossed out. The Lich King's standard. I could only think how infantile of him to group the defaced symbols of his former life as a paladin with the thing that had corrupted him. It had the spoiled milk smell of a childish taunt at his former teachers.

The air swirled around us in livid green or purple hues as if alive but I did not feel it move against me. I touched my arm, thinking the disguise was blocking all outer sensations but it felt as if I were touching my own skin. At that thought I shivered and tried to ignore my stomach's protesting lurch. Aside from my own breath in my ear the whole area was still. Our movement through what little remained of the grass was quickly muffled as if all sounds were killed and swallowed up as soon as they were born.


	25. Chapter 25

The thorn trees here grew in thick stands, their trunks and branches twisted as if reaching out to rip anyone foolish enough to walk near them. A monstrous cage loomed ahead where a huge dark shape groaned in its sleep behind the towering white bars tipped with a rusty brown beneath yet another enormous skull. A shriek on the wind above us and Shanker pulled us into the wreckage of one of the strange machines.

"A plaguetalon," Shanker hissed. "Pray it didn't see us."

I looked up through the ruin of the machine but couldn't see or hear anything. It was maddening for my senses to be so blunted that I was nearly blind and deaf. I looked over the land before us and noticed a pile of white cloth not far ahead. With a start of horror I realized it was a body, stripped of armor and protective leathers.

"On maps this area is called The Dead Fields," Shanker said. "Save your prayers for yourself, healer." He nodded at the body. "They no longer care."

He scanned the sky again for whatever the screaming flying thing had been and once he had decided it was safe to resume our journey, led the way out from under the machine's massive legs. We plodded on until he stopped us where another stand of the monstrous thorn trees had toppled a wall, their fat, hungry roots weaving among the broken stones. Beyond our shelter the trees had ended their march and in the clearing ahead was a raised circular platform with four ramps made of huge skulls and long bones. Fist sized chunks of a light colored crystal floated in the glowing, bubbling pool that surrounded the structure. Here and there knobby headed spindly creatures darted and jumped like mad demonic rabbits. In our disguises we looked just like them but I wasn't sure I could caper with the same wild abandon.

Small flecks of golden yellow were drifting in the air and I reached out to catch one. Shanker slapped my hand down and wordlessly pointed upward. A triangular device decorated with skulls and spikes hovered in the sky near us, releasing an orange spray as it drifted. Plague spreaders. I ran my hands over my head and then down my shoulders and arms to wipe off the bits of yellow death that had landed on me. Then I scooped up a handful of the dead soil to scrub my hands.

Shanker was looking my way but if he was laughing at me I couldn't tell. He opened the small case on his belt and held out potion tubes for each of us to take. He held his own up until he had all of our attention then he peeled up a corner of the green lens over his face just long enough to sip the potion and then close it again. I raised my tube to my face and imitated his every move, the edge of the lens over my face at first resisting and then giving way to my prying fingers. There was barely enough of the liquid to wet my tongue, but I instantly felt refreshed.

"Rest for now," he said. He didn't have to add that once we were in the necropolis we probably wouldn't have many chances to catch our breath.

I found a place where I could look through the branches to the land before us. A thick clump of the yellow flakes drew my eyes upwards again to the plague spreaders. There were five in all, drifting in a slow circle around the strange platform. A wispy white spot floating among the dark tree tops caught my eye and resolved into a ghostly wild haired female in a long gown: a banshee. Above us, higher than the tree tops, a great circular darkness loomed over all.

On the ground, bizarre vehicles with jagged implements held large pot-cauldrons full of a thick yellow bubbling liquid. Beyond the bony platform, high walls formed an enclosure that was patrolled by giant stitched together abominations. Off to the right it had been broken through all the way down to the ground, revealing a snowy bank rising to a sharp hill.

There was a shriek and a huge grey gargoyle was flying upwards towards the darkness above, a blue humanoid body struggling in its claws.

"Was that a troll?" Thom said softly at my side, nearly startling me out of both sets of skin. He patted my shoulder as he murmured a heartfelt apology.

"Don't mind me," I whispered. "I am being quite the chicken in the road. Neither side of it looks friendly and I hear the thunder of approaching hooves."

I turned to Shanker for an explanation of the sight, but he too was watching the rising demon. He didn't look away until the monstrous thing and its burden had disappeared into that hovering darkness.

"Sorry to rush but now is the best time to go," he said. "The workers will be intent on subduing that troll." He waved to us to gather around him. "I'm going first, then each of you wait a few minutes before following me in. Do exactly as you see me do."

He pointed out at the field. "Do you see that black ghost? Stay away from them. They can see through the magic of your disguises and they will kill you. When you're in the necropolis, bow before Drakuru and don't move until he tells you to leave. I'll collect you and lead you to a safe place."

"What the hell are we suppose to do while we wait for you gather us up like little chicks?" Niall said. "I don't think the scourge have orientation officers for new recruits."

"Improvise," Shanker said. "I can assure you that ability is one thing the dead lack." With the mage's laughter as a fanfare, he jumped over the low wall and bounded towards the platform.

Niall turned around, looking at each of us as if to discover who had laughed. The mage didn't see fit to admit he was the one and I saw no reason to point him out. After a second or two, Niall shrugged and looked out again to where Shanker had gone. Then with a start he put his hands up on the stonework in front of him and leaned forward to quickly scan one side of the platform and then the other. I jumped up to kneel beside him, too late remembering our guide's instructions. The cavorting knobby headed geists all looked alike! We had lost sight of which one was Shanker.


	26. Chapter 26

"Don't worry," Niall said. "If Shanker was copying those geists, then all we have to do is the same ourselves. Remember to avoid those black ghosts!" Then he too was gone over the wall.

"He doesn't hop so well," was the mage's wry comment as he observed Niall's progress to the platform.

"Oh, he does pretty good for an old man," Thom said. There was a thump as someone hit him on the back; it could only have been Guivre. He turned around to box her but she had already jumped over the wall to chase after Niall. Thom muttered something under his breath before following her a few moments later. The blur of motion on the other side of me was the mage leaving.

I crouched there frozen, afraid to cross that line, that road. Then cursing all humans for their rashness I vaulted the stone wall and gamely cavorted my way to the platform. Sweat ran with icy fingers down my ribcage as I gave each geist a wide berth and watched for the hazy shadow of a black ghost. Some of the geists were fishing the crystals out of the pool surrounding the platform and giving them to another waiting nearby. The pool's intense radiance reduced everything to a dead white or black or a putrid yellow.

The closer I got to the platform, the more curious I became about the liquid and the crystals but decided it was not the best time to investigate. The silent creatures franticly capering about without rhyme or reason had my nerves on edge. Some of the geists were running up and down the ramps to the center of the platform and seeing an opening, I made the plunge to run up one of the ramps. I felt rather than heard feet pounding behind me, closing in. Expecting any moment to feel a weapon in my back, I ran faster to the green circle in the center and as a strange sensation swept through me, I was transported into the necropolis.

I was one of many geists crouching at the portal. The others suddenly leapt forward and I let them get ahead of me. When they stopped I looked up to see a gigantic troll, his tusks waving over us as he spoke as if he were a mammoth about to step forward and crush us all. I prostrated myself before him, pressing my face to the floor while my thoughts ran in crazy circles of fear. He boomed out something else I didn't understand and the echoes of his voice made me squirm in pain. The other geists left and I made haste to follow them.

Lamps hung from the walls but their sickly yellow light was soon lost in a green radiance that filled the great flying tomb. Barely at the edge of my hearing something was screaming but I couldn't tell whether or not it was a person or an animal. Alcoves off to one side of the hall were stuffed with boxes and strange cages and I stopped to investigate. The cages were empty except for orange puddles and fragments of bright yellow crystals that reminded me of the ones I had seen earlier in the pool around the platform.

A snuffling, rolling groan came from behind me and with my heart in my mouth, I turned to see a huge deformed troll looking at me through the bars of his cage. His skin was a strange orange color and his arms were twice the thickness of my body and as long as I was tall. He shifted about in the cramped enclosure to avoid touching several large yellow crystals sitting in small pools of liquid at his feet. All the while the blighted troll muttered gibberish as he shook the bars in an endless mad song of torment and rage.

A blow to the back of my shoulders sent me stumbling toward the cage and I smashed against it, my face ground into the bars. "Are there no real people in this world but you?" Shanker hissed in my ear, anger deepening the unholy tones in his voice. "Follow me." He walked away without a backward glance and I made haste to catch up with him. I had guessed truly that my curiosity would be the death of me where he was concerned.

He led the way to an alcove where behind an almost ceiling high stack of crates part of the back wall had been opened, revealing a small cubbyhole. Within it were all the others and one of them was holding their trembling legs to their chest as they sat on the floor.

"By the Light, the cold burns!"

The whispering voice was Tater's. She was the smallest of us and of course she would feel the cold more intensely. I went to her and gathered her in my arms, my heart gladdened when she didn't shrug away. I was so happy everyone was safe, I reached out to each one, not caring who it was, until we were all huddled together. Shanker remained apart, however, stationing himself at the hole in the wall much like a mother cat guarding her box of kittens.


	27. Chapter 27

The boost from the potion was long gone and I sorely felt the need for rest. I closed my eyes and tried to think of a happier time and place. The last time I had been on the flight deck of the Amberpine Lodge the sun had laid warm, soothing hands on my wounded back. The sky had been a clean, clear blue and Woodsman Drake had been playing his fiddle while the river below splashed and sang as it rushed to the sea. The pervasive odor of the rich, fertile woodland loam had added a pungent undertone to the smells of breakfast just past. Sleep finally began to creep over me as I tried to remember how the light . . .

_. . . shone . . ._

. . . down on the coffin, bringing out the discrete lustrous shine of the wood and highlighting the elegantly understated carvings. How like mother to never flaunt her wealth and prestige, not even to the end.

The Temple of the Moon was quiet. Everyone had withdrawn to give the grieving child peace and the time alone to say that last farewell. The only sound was that of the water falling behind me from the gigantic statue's upraised hands into the moonwell.

"She was very proud of you, Eburianar," my teacher said as she stepped from the shadows.

"Thank you for telling me, Priestess," I said. "I never heard it from her."

No, she had not seen fit to remark on anything I had done. She had doted on all her other children as they had gathered around her, singing her praises and vying for scraps of her attention. Yet here at the end I stood alone beside her coffin and I alone would see her returned to the goddess Elune.

"Nothing galls to the bone as ambition starved, denied," I said softly. "For years I struggled to do my best. I gave my heart!" My voice rang back at me in hissing echoes from every corner of the temple. "My soul," I whispered. "I gave it all only to see others advance while I was left behind."

"There is no place for ambition among healers, my child," Priestess Starseeker said.

I rested my hand on the coffin's edge. "There is nothing holding me here now," I said. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the priestess lift her hand as if to say something but she quickly smoothed herself back into position. My eyes were already on the door. I felt the cold metal handle under my hand; there was a click as the latch pulled free of the catch. My feet took me out of the temple and I let them until Teldrassil had been left behind as if it had never existed.

I jerked awake with alarms ringing in my ears and a hand firmly cupped over my mouth. In fact something was over my legs, holding me down. "Shhh-h-h-h-h," someone whispered when I tried to push their weight off me. "Sorry, but you're not a quiet sleeper," the voice said and I recognized it as Niall's as he released me.

"It has begun," Shanker said. "Either Stoutmantle has been sighted or he has landed his forces on the top of the necropolis. There's no need to worry about being discovered now. What little remains of their minds will be focused on attacking him. Make your way to his position but stay to either side and wait for the signal to unmask."

He leaped out into the alcove without a backward glance before any of us had time to react. Niall was the first one to follow, but he slid to a stop at the end of the stacked boxes and held out his arm as a barrier to the rest of us. Beyond our sanctuary there were so many geists leaping along the walkway their bodies were a raging brown river to the teleport pad. Above the uproar I heard the clanking of metal doors being thrown open and angry, protesting howls and grunts.

With a chill running down my back, I recognized those sounds. "They're releasing the blighted trolls," I said, turning to Niall.

"What are you talking about?" His voice may have been slightly muffled but his aggravation came through as clearly as a knife through cloth.

"That troll we saw being carried to the necropolis – they do something to them with the crystallized blight and it turns them into monsters," I said. "It makes them three times larger and probably five times more vicious."

Niall cursed under his breath. "Mr. Shanker probably knew about that and yet didn't see fit to tell us. Neither did he give us any weapons, damn his cursed hide." He looked over to the walkway were the flow of geists was by now greatly diminished. "Time to join the party. Stay with me if you can, folks! We have to stay ahead of those blighted trolls."

We pushed our way through the mass of geists when suddenly the roar of a scourge touched voice thundered through the necropolis, sending me to my knees in pain, my hands pressed tightly over my ears. Someone pulled on my arm to get me up but we were knocked flat as several bodies fell on top of us. Drakuru towered over us, swinging the upper part of his body and his arms from side to side as he bellowed in rage.

Like a monstrous knot of worms the geists wriggled free of each other and fled down the ramp, leaving several motionless bodies behind. I wondered if any of them were disguised soldiers but I dared not risk drawing attention to myself by touching them. I turned to my helper but I couldn't tell if the geist beside me was Niall or even Tater. A moment's distraction and I had lost them in the crush.

The mob surged forward and I could not help but go along with the mad rush of bodies, my heart breaking I felt so lost. Just as suddenly they stopped and so many of them were tightly pressed against me I could barely breathe. A flare of green light and I realized we had stepped into a portal. I cowered in the dim sunlight that was painfully bright compared to that inside the necropolis. The geists around me milled about as if just as stunned as I. Blinking away tears I cautiously tried to find Stoutmantle's position.

A line of bright lights off to one side drew my eyes but the geists were turning away from them and avoided looking again in that direction. My heart leaped with elation when I realized those sparkling orbs were lightwells the alliance forces had set down along the perimeter of their base. I ran towards them, focusing on that glorious radiance and praying I would get to them before Drakuru's minions realized what I was doing.

One last leap, then I was past the lightwells and as soon as I landed I curled into a ball, hands over head. At first I was held down while loud voices rang out over me, then someone turned me over and a hand was in my face, peeling away the lens of my disguise. As the enchanted skin fell away I opened my eyes to see a human alliance soldier looking down at me.

"Better late than never," I heard Niall say from nearby. "What took you so damn long?"


	28. Chapter 28

I got to my feet and turning to the direction of his voice, found myself greeted by a smile so joyous it could have burnt the sun. I couldn't help but smile back at him as my heart answered in kind. The Light surrounded us, vibrating through every nerve and fiber of my being until I wondered if everyone else couldn't helping feeling the same jubilation as we did.

A shout went up from the soldiers around us as Stoutmantle stepped from behind me to clap Niall on the shoulder and then shake his hand. Guivre put both her arms around me and hugged me tightly while her brother looked on, beaming. The mage, Seamarge, favored me with a slight bow, which I took to be a gracious acknowledgement of my miraculous escape.

Stoutmantle unsheathed his sword and held it high, shouting, "For the Alliance! For Lordaeron!" Everyone shouted in answer, then from the back came a call, "For Westfall!"

"Indeed," Stoutmantle said, laughing. "For Westfall! Where the stubbornest sons of bitches ever known are born and raised. Today we fight. We will not back down. We will win this day!"

"Permission to speak, sir," Niall said as he saluted.

"Stand down, Lieutenant," Stoutmantle said with a smile. "What have you learned?"

"The blighted trolls …," Niall began, but stopped when he saw the captain's nod.

"The death knights have kept us apprised of those abominations," Stoutmantle said. "The strategy is to pull them away from each other until the death knights can get control of them." He nodded at Niall's look of surprise. "Yes, they've discovered how Drakuru uses a device to command them. Shanker sent word they don't have many of the scepters but he thinks it will be enough."

Stoutmantle turned to the people behind him. "Sergeants!" he bellowed. "Front and center!"

Two men ran up to the captain and saluted. "Fill out Lieutenant Ravencrom's command and get him some gear and a weapon," the captain directed them. "Time is short tempered today, gentlemen, and I have doubts she is on our side." The three men saluted and headed into the crowd. I bowed to Stoutmantle and followed Niall, Guivre and Thom at my heels.

So it would seem Shanker had reached Gryan ahead of us but I saw no sign of him. If Niall was disappointed he wasn't the first with the news, he did not show it as we walked among the men. While the older veterans seemed more relaxed as they talked and smoked, the younger soldiers, male and female alike, busied themselves checking and rechecking their gear. So many I saw were barely old enough to know what the word adult meant, much less having experienced that grand state. Several smiled at me and I tried to return the expression with good cheer, remembering I had once heard a human say he thought night elves were born too solemn. The Light would have to forgive me for hiding behind the misconception.

The sergeants split up, Tyric going to one side of the enclosure, explaining he would send over enforcements to Niall, while Daelian pointed to specific soldiers and signaled to them to follow Niall to the other side of the area. Once Daelian was satisfied with his arrangements, the officer saluted to Niall and trotted off to rejoin Stoutmantle.

Beyond the lightwells a huge, orange skinned troll towered above the brown sea of milling geists and started towards us while an ordinary troll followed him with a silver staff in his hand. The scourged monster pushed aside the smaller ones before it, uncaring if it trampled them in the process.

Captain Stoutmantle gave the signal and the drums rolled out a challenge while the trumpets brayed their contempt of those arrayed before the army. Niall turned to me and nodded. All I could think of was how poorly he was protected without his own plate armor and that he was armed with an unfamiliar weapon that might not serve him as well as his own. Thom fairly danced in his excitement while Guivre craned her neck impatiently to see past those in front of her. Seamarge was wrapped up in an intense examination of his fingernails. I couldn't decide whether or not I needed to empty my bladder but then the shouting began and it was too late.

The lightwells were set aside and Niall was among the first to engage the enemy, the Light's fury glowing white hot within him. Thom and Guivre had pushed through the soldiers in front of them until they were at his side. The ranks closed about me and the other healers while mages brought up the rear. Above the noise of shields and armor being struck and the manic laughter of the geists, I could hear Niall shouting orders and encouragement.

Then the protective border to our right was breached and the geists ran in to batter our guards, almost knocking them off their feet. The soldiers were swarmed, taking bruising damage as they were pounded by the surging, weaponless mob cutting between us and the forward group. I heard swearing from all sides but what surprised me the most was to hear Seamarge cursing Niall.

"What is it," I yelled as I sent minor heals among our protectors, all the while backing up until I stood beside the mage.

"It's starting all over again," Seamarge said. "If you live through this, ask him about Chrys. Ask him how she died. She followed him and she…" He choked back another curse. "If you're smart you'll stay as far away from him as you can."

There were screams from behind us and then bodies were flying through the air. A blighted troll had followed the geists through the broken barrier and was tossing people right and left. The monster stank of corruption, the stench causing many to gag and vomit. From behind him several of the smaller undead creatures stood up and began clawing at their own faces. One of them had a glowing silver staff while another jumped towards us and I screamed in pure terror as it grabbed me and whirled me around.

The geist reached up and pulled the skin at the top of its head until the face split open, revealing a grinning Shanker. He turned to the other death knights, who now had control of the blighted troll. "Turn him around and get him out there to cover that damn paladin's flank," he yelled. "Three more of the scourged monsters are out!"

He pointed to where an even larger troll than the one Niall fought was running towards his position. The new one swung his arms and three men went down in one swoop. A moment of shock and then I was running towards them, calling on the Light to heal, my blood hungering for it, my bones aching to feel it coursing through me. I stopped and concentrated on a fully powered spell, barely aware of soldiers taking position around me but before I could complete the incantation, Thom was struck down and fell at Niall's feet.


	29. Chapter 29

I screamed as my heart broke open and all the tears it held ran down my face. I tried to run to Thom but someone grabbed and held me and I fought them with a blind furious rage.

"You can't save him," Shanker said, his lips at my ear as he lifted me in the air. "Save those you can, healer." Arms that had known the implacable stillness of the grave held me tightly and no matter how I twisted and turned I could not escape. I flailed my arms, trying to grab some part of him. My hands wanted – needed – to rip him to pieces, to make him let me go.

"Save your fool paladin, woman!" Shanker yelled as he shook me, his fingers digging into my flesh. "Do I have to beat you?"

"I failed him," I cried, nothing more than a limp rag in his grasp. "My fault; my fault."

"Regrets will buy you nothing," Shanker said his tone firm and, for him, gentle. "Others need you. Move – now!"

I could not look up into his face as he released me, I was so ashamed. He set his hand on my shoulder and gave it a push, sending me off towards the fighters. I took my position among the other healers and the mages; not at the very front where I wanted to be, where Thom's body lay. The monstrous troll the death knights commanded barreled into first one, knocking it down and Niall finished it off with two handed overhead blow to its head. His exultation in the kill flowed through the Light and I could feel how it gave strength to our fighters.

Their cheers were swallowed up by a scourge touched roar and it seemed as if the world stopped for a moment and held its breath. An even larger blighted troll than the first two had come through the portal, followed by Drakuru with a controlling scepter in his hands. His minion raised its arms above its head and brought them down on the top of the necropolis, the punishing blow sending vibrations through the metal that knocked us all off our feet.

"For Lordaeron!" Stoutmantle shouted as he got to his feet. He pointed his sword at the monster and its horrific master, his voice rallying his men who added their own to his.

The death knights sent in their monstrous brute and it knuckle-galloped across the platform towards the other, the momentum of their crash sending both to knock down the troll overlord. Soldiers ran forward to attack while Drakuru and his minion were weakened but the overlord quickly recovered and snatched two men up in one hand, smashing them against the necropolis' top plating before throwing them over the side.

In answer the mages sent freezing spells at Drakuru while the death knights called upon the Shadow to corrupt the footing under the huge troll with death and decay. Each time that the mages froze the scourged overlord, the barrier lasted only a short while before he broke free and reached for more soldiers to crush in his hands as if they were insects.

Our enslaved blighted troll was weakening as it fought and the death knights' efforts to gain control of the newcomer were rebuffed time after time. We were losing too many fighters; as each died so did one more mote of the Light and I could feel a great darkness oozing into the empty places. Soon Drakuru would be sweeping the top of necropolis free of us and this brave assault would be yet another loss in the fight against the scourge.

I closed my eyes and prayed, my sorrow growing at the loss of each life, each point of Light, I reached out to heal. A shiver ran through me, this the last hour of my life, but the sensation had a curious undertone that was also familiar. Then I heard the sound of gigantic wings plowing the air. Long ago they had been our protectors; long ago my race had been blessed by these, the mightiest of all the world's creatures.

"Dragons," I shouted as the shivers became tremors of joy. "Dragons on the wing!"

The light brightened as if the sun was finally free to shine and then a huge shadow passed over us, followed by another. The air roared as it was inhaled by massive lungs. Two red dragons hovered in mid air above Drakuru, the backwash from their tremendous wings sweeping our soldiers away from the overlord as if they were bits of dust. Both of the leviathans opened their mouths and exhaled a nearly deafening blast of fire at the scourged troll.

Drakuru threw up his arms to shield himself, but it was in vain. His skin blackened and smoked in the intense heat until his body crumbled into a charred ruin on the flame seared metal. The dragons went on to blast the top of the necropolis until it was clean of the scourge. They landed and then skewed into their humanoid shapes, taking on the images of the high elven with pinkish skins and long yellow hair.

No one moved for several moments, then Stoutmantle strode head high towards the dragons and after a breath or two the rest of us followed at a discrete distance. I pushed through the crowd, my inner senses following a thread of Light that had Niall's marker and I found him at Guivre's side where she sat with her brother's body in her arms.

She looked up at me, tears running down her blood splashed face. "He calls – called – me Taterpie because I loved mam's sweet potato pie so much," she said between sobs. "I always told him somebody would get mad at him for all his teasing. I warned him!" Her face crumpled and she bowed her head over his chest. "I warned him … so … many times."

Niall picked her up and she did not resist him as he cradled her in his arms as if she was a child. I kneeled and smoothed Thom's hair for the last time before signaling to the bearers to take the body away.

"I saved him for this," I said, my eyes on the grieving young woman. "For so little …"

"My esteemed guests," I heard Stoutmantle say from behind me. I stood and turned to watch as he bowed to the dragons. "What news?"

He was not surprised to see them! I looked at Niall but he shrugged in answer, then turned away to set Guivre on her feet but I didn't feel he did that to hide his face.

"We are happy to say that the Argent Crusade and the Ebon Knights were able to bring down Thrym and Highlord Fordragon successfully kept The Lich King distracted while you attacked Voltarus." The two dragons traded glances before turning back to Captain Stoutmantle. "However, the Highlord was lost to us. We have not been able to find his body."

Stoutmantle's head went up and his shoulders back. His hands were clenched into white knuckled fists at his sides. "We are cursed to lose our greatest warriors; our most noble heroes," he whispered. One of the dragons slowly closed his eyes and bowed his head.

Tears welled in my eyes for him, for Tater, for all the world's lost children.

Thanking the dragons for their help, Stoutmantle then began giving orders to tend to the wounded and to start a pile to burn the troll bodies. Niall's warm hand curled around my wrist and I smiled down at him, then I followed the captain as he strode off to care for his people.


	30. Chapter 30

Finally all the wounded were made comfortable, the dead cremated and Gryan had retired to a makeshift command post to dictate condolence letters to the families of those lost. The dragons had long departed, back to Wrymrest Temple, once they had cleaned the area around the necropolis from all effects of the plague. I walked to the edge of the platform and looked over a land beginning to heal. Here and there dragonfire still licked at the thorn tree stumps among thick stands of bright flowers. Overhead the sun shone down through tears in the clouds, setting the edges of each stone and leaf ablaze with gold. A breeze came up, sharp with the memory of ice and snow, and I faced into it as if it could scour my heart clean.

Niall didn't bother to walk quietly towards me; his sabatons striking the stone platform rang out his approach. "You once said it's best to grieve and then move on," he said from behind me. "I think acceptance should be in there someplace, Aengeal. Otherwise you're punishing yourself with something that will never be changed. You're stuck. Accept what happened. Accept your part in it and then you can move on."

He cleared his throat when I didn't move or turn towards him. I couldn't. I didn't want him to see how those words hurt, nearly to the point of bringing tears.

"I'd like for you to stay on as healer for my command. You're a good one and I'd like to think you're also . . . a friend."

I didn't answer, soothed as I was by the warmth of his regard and the banked fire of the Light within him. They were beacons I knew I could huddle beside and they would keep my fears at bay. But it was far better I should stand on my own, I thought, remembering how I had once trusted another human lover. Depending on him, or anyone else for that matter, would only make me weaker in the long run.

"Only as long as we remember it's a relationship of . . . is convenience the right word?" I said as I turned to him. "Only as long as it suits either one of us."

He frowned then, his blue eyes clouding. I remembered then the entirety of his life was but one year of mine. How could I think he would ever have a lasting effect on me?

Suddenly contrite, I pushed my hair behind my ears and walked to his side. I took his hand in both of mine.

"Talk to me, please," I said without meeting his eyes. His bared hand lay unresisting in mine. Dirt lay as black lace in the seam of a scar that ran across the knuckles.

He shrugged. "About what?" he said, his voice sheathed in cold iron.

"Tell me where you've gotten all these scars," I said as I began kneading the palm of his hand. "Some of them I can guess at but not all of them. That scar on your nose for example, it looks like a burn scar." I leaned down closer to inspect the blemish in question. "Were you in a fire?"

He shook his head and when he looked up his eyes were blue flames. "I didn't have a scratch on me until I met you."

"No, that scar on your nose is an old one," I insisted, hoping to get through that thick head of his. "Where did you get it? Don't you remember?"

He ran a finger down his nose. "There isn't a scar there. You're imagining things."

"Niall, it's as plain as . . ." I shut my mouth with a snap and glared at him. "Are we always going to fight like this?"

His face brightened as if something inside him had resettled into a better place. "Yes," he said softly. A mischievous smile tugged at one corner of his lips. "Always."

**The End**


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